


Somewhere To Belong

by xXdreameaterXx



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 03:05:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 35
Words: 56,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5031334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXdreameaterXx/pseuds/xXdreameaterXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John Smith has been released from prison after 25 years and wants to get to know his son, whom he has never seen, by moving onto the same street and befriending him. His son's girlfriend Clara is giving him a warm welcome, but soon John fears that he and Clara are getting a little too close while uncovering the true crime for which he went to prison. Whouffaldi. AU. Rated E for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [queen-of--the-ashes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=queen-of--the-ashes).



> A friend of mine (queen-of--the-ashes) gave me this lovely idea and I couldn't help it. It needed to be written down. I hope you enjoy it :)

John Smith turned around the corner and parked his van in the driveway of his new home. As he got out, his fingers smoothed the writing on the door that said “The Doctor – Home Repair & Plumbing Service”. After starting his own business a few months ago he had chosen the cheapest stickers for his car and he was now starting to regret that decision as he realized they would soon need replacing. He slammed it shut and made his way towards the house. The lock clicked as he turned his key in the front door and John stepped into the spacious corridor. His new home was so much bigger than his sister's house in Glasgow where he had been staying for the past six months, and he had been suffering from nightmares every single night during his stay. It would get better, John told himself, this house in London was a new beginning, a new chapter of his life and he desperately needed to put the past 25 years behind him.  
Everything would turn out fine. After all, he was off to a very lucky start. Under normal circumstances he wouldn't have been able to afford a house in this area, not while he was working as a handyman and plumber, but this kind of work was all he had been doing for the past two and a half decades and John had become very good at it. As it so happened, when this particular house had gone on sale, it had soon turned out to be in a rather bad state and no other potential buyer had been willing to invest a big amount of money into the repairs. John had known that he would be able to fix most of it by himself, so he hadn't hesitated. And now he was standing in the large and still empty living room, overlooking his front yard – with a clear view on the house across the street. 

John had been lucky indeed to find a house right across the street from the reason he had decided to move to London. There it was. Big, made out of red bricks, white framed windows and flowers in the front garden. The house his son was living in.  
John had never seen Alexander in the 30 years of his life. He had been dating a young woman named Sarah Jane back then in Glasgow, who had been torn between him and another man whose name he couldn't even remember now. When she had found out about the pregnancy, Sarah Jane had informed John about her decision to raise her child with the other man, as she had found John to be too unreliable. She had been right and at first John hadn't minded too much, young and stupid as he had been back then. He had told himself that there would be other chances, other women, that there was still time to settle down and become a family man – but life had played the cruellest of jokes on him and now everything had changed.  
The young man living across the street was his only chance at having his own family and John wanted to get to know him. Slowly. Carefully. Befriending him before springing the truth on him. John knew nothing about him at all other than his name and his address and it would take time. Just like John would need time to settle into his new life.

 

Making his way back to the car to unload the few things he had brought from Glasgow, his eyes suddenly wandered back to the house and through the window he spotted a young woman – and she was in trouble. She was fighting a fountain that came shooting out of her kitchen sink and obviously cursing bitterly. Without thinking, John crossed the road and rang the doorbell before he could stop himself.  
“Bad timing! Very, very bad!” he heard the woman shout from inside the house, followed by some words she surely wouldn't use if there were children in the house as well.  
“I'm a plumber, if it's any help!” John called back, raising his voice so she could hear him.  
Only seconds later the door opened and a very flustered, soaking wet, young woman appeared in front of him.  
“Gosh, you must be heaven sent!” she panted, sounding slightly relieved, “Kitchen. Water everywhere!”  
John let her lead the way and sure enough, she hadn't lied when she had said that there was water everywhere. He quickly knelt down and opened the cupboard under the sink, turning off the water flow to the tap before it did any more damage. It stopped instantly.  
John sat back up again, realizing that his trousers were already soaked. Only now he looked back at the woman, who must surely be his son's girlfriend and he immediately determined that his son was a very, very lucky man. She was in her late 20s, 30 at most, and looked beautiful, with innocent, big eyes and a shy smile.  
“Sorry,” John said after a moment, “I didn't mean to impose on you. I was just about to unload my car when I saw you through the window and you looked like you could need some help.”  
“Oh, no!” the woman said immediately, “No, you didn't impose at all. I really, really needed some help. I'd have called a plumbing service and I think my kitchen would have been completely flooded by the time they got here. So, thank you. Really, thank you!”  
John granted her a smile. “Well, in that case – happy to help. Listen, I'm gonna run across the street, change my clothes and get my toolbox, okay? This is just a temporary fix and you won't have any water here until it's been taken care of properly.”  
The woman's eyes widened. “Oh, you're the new neighbour? The one who bought Sam and Betsy's house?”  
He nodded in reply and he extended his hand for a proper introduction. “Yep, that's me. John Smith.”  
The woman shook his hand, smiling broadly at him. “I'm Clara Oswald. My boyfriend and I just moved here about a year ago. Boring area, really.”  
So his assumption had been right. Clara really was his son's girlfriend and John liked her immediately. She seemed friendly and bright and had this twinkling in her eyes that told him she was probably very feisty, too, if she needed to be.  
He excused himself and went back home, kicking off his soaked jeans and grabbing a clean pair from the only box that was labelled “clothes” before he picked up his toolbox and went back to help Clara. He had thought that befriending his son wouldn't be easy, that it might take months – but Clara's misfortune with the kitchen sink actually proved to be his luck. 

 

John stepped back into the kitchen when Clara was just mopping up the rest of the water and he realized that she, too, had changed into dry clothes.  
“What is wrong with the tap?” she asked as he bent over the sink.  
“It's old and leaking. I'll replace it, I've always got a spare in my toolbox for emergencies like this. Don't worry, it'll only take ten minutes or so.”  
John rummaged through the box and noticed that Clara still wasn't leaving his side, so he looked up at her.  
“Is there anything else?”  
Clara bit down on her lip. “It's not gonna cost me an arm and a leg, is it?”  
For a moment John was confused until he had registered that she expected him to want to get paid for his services. He chuckled. “Oh, no, don't worry. First emergency is free,” he said, setting down a few tools on the counter, “But I would appreciate some recommendations around the neighbourhood. To promote my business.”  
“Consider it done,” Clara replied with a smile and turned around to where the kettle was standing, “I'm making tea. Do you want some while you're here?” 

John accepted thankfully and continued to work on the tap. A short while later Clara received a phone call, which he couldn't help but overhear, and obviously his son was on the other end of the line, informing a not so amused Clara that he'd be home late. Some part of him was disappointed to have missed a chance of meeting him today, but John kept telling himself that there was still time. He would get to know his son eventually.  
“There, as good as new,” John announced after Clara had set the phone aside. He turned on the tap to demonstrate that it was working and she applauded him cheerfully.  
“Thank you so much! You're a lifesaver!” she said gratefully and suddenly something seemed to cross her mind, “Hey, do you like chocolate soufflé?”  
John shrugged. “I've never tried it.”  
He watched her glance towards the oven. “Would you like some with your tea?” she asked him, “I made two, but Alex is working late again and it's not really good unless it's still hot.”  
“Oh, no,” John shook his head, “I can't steal your boyfriend's dinner.”  
Clara rolled her eyes. “He's having Chinese take-out with colleagues, he won't want it anyway. It's either you or the bin.”  
He considered it for a moment.  
“Please,” Clara added, “If you're not gonna let me pay for fixing the tap, at least accept the soufflé.”  
“Alright,” John eventually agreed and Clara offered him a seat at the kitchen table while bringing him a cup of tea and retrieving the steaming soufflé from the oven. He had to admit that it really smelled delicious, though, after 25 years of prison food, the same could be said about McDonald's burgers and chips. A couple of minutes later Clara took the seat across the table.

“So, Mr Smith,” Clara began, “Did you move hear from Scotland?”  
John laughed. “What gave me away? Surely not the accent? And please, call me John. I'm from a Glaswegian neighbourhood that has kind of a familiar atmosphere and being formal with my neighbours seems really foreign to me.”  
“Glasgow, huh? I've heard that city is supposed to be very bleak. My boyfriend Alex is from there, but his family moved to London when he was five. He hated it there.”  
John absorbed the information about his son as he took a spoonful of soufflé in his mouth – to his surprise, it tasted even better than he had expected.  
“Do you like it?” Clara asked hopefully, “I used my mother's recipe, but I can never quite get it to taste the way I remember it.”  
John swallowed. “You have nothing to worry about. This is delicious.”  
He watched Clara's cheek blush a little. “You're a lot nicer than the last neighbours. And they had terribly noisy children, the worst I have ever seen. You don't have young children, do you?”  
“No,” John replied, “No young children. Why? Don't you like kids?”  
“Oh, I do. I wouldn't have become a teacher if I didn't. But those kids that used to live in your house – playground terrorists,” she rolled her eyes.  
He continued to eat his soufflé, unsure of what to reply to that, when Clara suddenly spoke again.  
“Hey, listen, Alex and I have invited some friends for a barbecue on Friday before the season is over. Why don't you and your wife come over as well? It'll be nice and you can get to know a few people from the neighbourhood,” she suggested.  
“I, uhm,” he spluttered, “I don't have a wife.”  
“Come on your own then,” Clara said cheerfully.  
A barbecue. At his son's house. Where he would be meeting him, probably for the first time. Suddenly John felt very insecure and wasn't sure if coming here had been the right decision after all. He would probably have to answer a lot of questions – people were always curious about the new neighbour – and he wasn't really keen on telling everyone about his past right away. But it was a chance to get to know his son.  
“Should I bring something?” John found himself asking, agreeing before his brain had even made a decision.  
“Bring whatever you like, or nothing at all. We're not picky.”  
John smiled at the young woman in front of him. Clara was absolutely lovely and she was making it easy for him to feel welcome. And if she liked him, chances were that his son would grow to like him as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the first reviews :)  
> If anyone needs a visual for my OC Alex: I pictured him looking like Richard Madden.

Clara was just about to finish up the salad when she heard the front door open and Alex stepped inside their house.  
“Honey, I'm home!” he called from the living room and Clara giggled. Ever since they had moved in together, this was usually the first thing he said upon coming back from work.  
“Kitchen!” she announced and a moment later, instead of the salad, she was facing a large bouquet of flowers and Alex pressed a kiss to her head from behind.  
“What are those for? Did I forget an anniversary?” she asked carefully as she took the flowers from him and turned around.  
Alex shrugged. He looked really tired and worn out from the day he had had. “An apology,” he explained, “For working so much lately.”  
Clara knew he was really lucky to haven gotten his position, head of human resources, at his current age and at such a big company, too, so she tried not to complain too much. After all, her own job was very important to her as well, yet some days when he was working late and none of her friends were around, she did feel bored out of her mind.  
“Is everything okay at work?” Clara asked while she looked through the cupboards for a suitable vase.  
Alex snagged something from the salad bowl and put it into his mouth. “Yeah, just lots of work. Remember when I told you we're trying to broaden the company horizons? We're currently working to set up an office in Seattle and we want to hire 80% natives and the other 20% will be transferred from the London office,” he explained.  
“That sounds like a lot of interviews,” Clara said, slapping his hand away from the bowl as he tried to grab another snack.  
“It is and pickings are slim, but I can't blame them for not wanting to move to another continent, although the new job would come with a nice raise.”  
“Hang on,” Clara looked up at him, knitting her eyebrows, “If you're in charge of the Seattle office, does that mean. . .?”  
Alex nodded gravely. “I have to fly to America once or twice for the interviews, but I'm trying to schedule them for the autumn school break so you could come with me.”  
“Ohh, I'm not sure I can make-,” Clara stopped to take the bowl of salad away from him, “Stop stealing the food!”  
“Why?” he asked innocently, “Why did you even make so much? Are we expecting guests?”  
Clara glared at him, putting her arms akimbo. “The barbecue evening?”  
Alex covered his face in his hands. “I'm sorry, I completely forgot. Who's coming?”  
“Amy and Rory, Martha, though I'm not sure if she brings Mickey, and I invited the new neighbour. Remember, the one I told you about a few days ago? He fixed our kitchen tap.”  
Alex let out a tired groan and wrapped his arms around Clara's waist. “I was actually looking forward to some quality time with my beautiful girlfriend.”  
“You can have that later. Now go shower while I fix up dinner,” she ordered him.  
He groaned again. “Amy and Rory, that's gonna be hours of talking about sex positions most suitable for conceiving and tracking menstrual cycles and fertility clinics.”  
“Look on the bright side,” she said with a shrug, “One day it's gonna happen and then they'll talk about nothing but nappies and bottles and first words that don't even exist in the English language.”  
“Already looking forward to that,” he replied without enthusiasm. 

 

* * *

 

John was clasping the wine bottle in his left hand as if holding on for dear life when he stepped up to the door and lifted his other hand to the door bell. He could still turn around and walk away. Clara would probably be disappointed in him, but he wouldn't have to face his son when he didn't feel ready yet. Though he knew that it was stupid, he would never feel ready, so he just gritted his teeth and rang the bell.  
A few moments later Clara opened the door with a broad smile on her face.  
“You came,” she greeted him excitedly, “I wasn't sure you would.”  
John held up the bottle of wine that he had brought for Clara to take. “Didn't know what else to bring, so. . .”  
She cocked an eyebrow at him. “Did you _know_ this was my favourite or just a lucky guess?”  
John shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I, erm, may have seen a bottle of this on your wine rack in the kitchen.”  
Clara beamed at him. “Come on, everyone else is already in the back yard.”  
To his surprise Clara reached out to take him by the arm and led him through the house, her touch almost making him regret his decision to come. He really wasn't comfortable with being touched, which was probably normal after going 25 years without any kind of skin contact. His sister had tried to ease John back into it, but without obvious success as he had always stiffened up whenever she had attempted to hug him.  
As she led him through the house, John grew increasingly nervous, not just because he was about to meet his son, but also because he felt like he had completely forgotten how to interact with people during social gatherings. He was fine when he was talking to just one person, but a quick scan of the garden told him he was about to spend the evening with five other people.  
“Everyone,” Clara announced immediately, “This is John Smith, who has just moved into the house across the street this week. He's a very skilled plumber and handyman, by the way. John,” she said, now looking at him for a moment, “This is Martha Jones, works as a surgeon at the Royal Hope Hospital. These two are Amy and Rory Pond-”  
“Actually,” the young man raised his voice, “It's Williams. I don't even know how this joke's still supposed to be funny.”  
Clara laughed. “Yes, and he hates it when everyone assumes he has taken his wife's last name. Rory also works at the Royal Hope and Amy is a journalist and writer. And this one here,” she said, pointing at the only young man who so far hadn't been introduced, “is my boyfriend Alex. He was named head of human resources at Asbury Inc. last year.” 

The only thing John recognized about him was the unruly mass of curly, brown hair on his head. His face was unfamiliar, though he could see traces of his mother in it and he seemed to have inherited her way of furrowing the eyebrows.  
John extended his hand nervously, hoping that Alex would take it before anyone saw that he was trembling. “Clara has told me you're from Glasgow as well?” he asked, not knowing what else to say to him.  
Alex huffed as he shook his hand. “Ghastly place. Luckily my mother and I moved to London when I was little.”  
He took a mental note that apparently Sarah Jane hadn't stayed with the other man after all, though he couldn't find a good excuse to ask about it.  
“You're a Smith from Glasgow, too, huh? You don't happen to be related to a Sarah Jane Smith?” Alex asked him and from his looks he didn't expect a yes as an answer at all.  
John smiled politely. He could hardly tell them that John Smith was nothing but an alias, a name he had picked after being released from prison, so in case his past came back to haunt him, no one would be able to find him among all the other John Smiths in the world.  
“If all the Smiths of Glasgow were related, we'd be the biggest family in the world,” he replied.

The evening passed slowly, but John grew less nervous with every minute. At first he had been terrified, meeting his son for the first time, making small talk with strangers who were all younger than him by some decades and he thought he wouldn't be able to fit in at all. Yet their friends were nice and he was able to evade questions about his past that dug too deep. He told them that he'd been living in Glasgow for most of his life, which was true, and that he had moved in with his sister six months ago, which was also true, because she was recovering from a nasty divorce, which was only half a lie. They asked about his job and by the end of the evening he had promised to have a look at Martha's flickering kitchen light and replace Amy and Rory's bathroom sink. In return he had learned that Martha was married to a man named Mickey and that Amy and Rory were desperately trying for a child. Clara talked to him on a lot of occasions as well, small talk, nothing too serious, and she constantly seemed to check if he was enjoying himself. After all, she was the one who had invited him.  
His son appeared to be a really nice, young man and John couldn't be prouder that Sarah Jane had managed to raise him so well. He was attentive towards Clara, polite to him and the other guests, although it was plain to see that he was tired from work. He thought that Sarah Jane had probably made the right decision back before Alex had been born, to raise him with another man, or on her own. With John as a father, who knows how Alex would have turned out. 

“I think I should call it a night,” John announced as he looked around and saw some guests already yawning, knowing that the evening would be over soon anyway.  
“I'll show you out,” Clara said, rising from her chair.  
When John had said his goodbyes to the rest of them, he followed Clara back through the house to the front door.  
“I hope they didn't bore you to death,” she said when they had reached the front door.  
“Not at all,” John replied earnestly, “I thought they were really nice.”  
“Really?” Clara's eyes widened in surprise, “They bore _me_ sometimes with their pretty, little lives and their perfect houses and their plans for having kids.”  
“They're you're friends.”  
“I suppose,” Clara shrugged, “But I'm glad you could make it.”  
“I'm glad you asked me to come. It was a nice evening.”  
Before John could step back, Clara had leaned in and given him a peck on the cheek. He knew it was a common way to say hello and goodbye, but the feeling of a woman's lips on his skin was so utterly foreign to him by now that it startled him.  
“Good night. See you around, I guess?” she asked.  
“Yeah,” he replied for lack of something better to say, “G'night.”

John hurried across the street, away from the house and the confusion that was causing a turmoil inside of him.


	3. Chapter 3

When John pulled up the driveway, back from a rather annoying job of fixing an old lady's door that had started to fall from its hinges, he noticed a migraine creeping up from the back of his head. He was in desperate need of a strong cup of coffee and a nap. It wasn't as bad yet, so there was still hope it would pass on its own. If not, he would have to drive to a pharmacy and he still didn't know where he could find one in this area.  
Getting out of his car, John suddenly spotted Clara rushing down the street.  
“Hey Clara,” he called out, waving at her.  
She looked at him for a short moment and then continued her pace without waving back or saying hello. The closer she came the more clearly John could see that something was bothering her. They hadn't really talked since the barbecue evening last week, so he decided to cross to street and ask if everything was alright.  
“Hey, are you okay? You look a little stressed.”  
Clara was panting from almost having run down the street and she looked around desperately. “Yes,” she replied breathlessly, but soon corrected herself, “No. I don't know.”  
Clara appeared so helpless and flustered that John was actually worried for a moment.  
“What's the matter?”  
She took a deep breath. “Alex has the car, my motorbike is still in the shop and Amy isn't home. I thought they might. . . I really need her right now. . . ah, nevermind. I'll have to take the bus. I'm sorry, John, this really is a bad timing.”  
“Uhm, where do you need to go?” John found himself asking, “If it's anywhere near a pharmacy, I'd be happy to drive you.”  
Clara eyes grew a little wider as she looked at him. “I actually need to go to a pharmacy. But you don't have to drive me, really. I can take the bus.”  
“Nonsense,” John said, “In your state I'd be worried you're gonna walk in front of a bus rather than board one. Come on, I need to stock up on some basic meds anyway.”

Clara followed him wordlessly to his van and he watched her climb into the passenger seat. John turned the key in the ignition and the engine sprang to life.  
“You just have to tell me where the nearest pharmacy is cause I have no idea,” John confessed.  
“It's easy,” Clara said, her voice suddenly sounding empty as she stared ahead, “Just drive up to the main street, turn left and drive for about 5 minutes. I'll tell you when to stop.”  
“Okay,” John said as he put the car into reverse and drove back onto the street.  
For a while neither of them said anything, but John soon found the silence to be too much to bear. He occasionally glanced at Clara, who still seemed troubled and shaken up. He wanted to help her, but he didn't even know what was bothering her.  
“Are you sick?” he asked after a while.  
“What?” she asked weakly, turning around to look at him until the intend of his question had finally dawned on her, “No. No, I'm not sick.”  
“Okay,” John let out a long breath, “Do you want to talk about it?”  
“It's actually kind of personal,” she said brusquely.  
“I'm sorry,” he apologized immediately, realizing that Clara was only his neighbour, not his daughter in law – yet. He had no right at all to ask about her private matters, “I didn't mean to pry. I was just worried. You seem pretty shaken up.”  
“I think I might be pregnant,” Clara suddenly burst out, apparently unable to keep this information bottled up inside of her any longer.  
John almost accidentally hit the brakes of his car when he heard the news, but he stopped himself at the last moment. He might become a granddad soon. Yet Clara didn't seem too happy about the prospect of having a child.  
“That's. . . that's good news, isn't it?” he asked carefully as he pulled onto the main street.  
Clara sighed. “No, this is horrible news! I can't have a kid! Not yet!”  
“I know this is none of my business, but you and Alex seem pretty stable. You both have jobs, you've got a big house. Things could be worse. It might not be that big a catastrophe as you think.”  
John heard Clara take a deep breath. She remained silent for a moment, but somehow he got the impression that she was beginning to calm down.  
“It's not exactly a catastrophe,” Clara admitted after a while, sounding a lot more settled than she had five minutes ago, “But it's not what I had planned for the moment, you know? I still feel. . . restless. Somehow. As if this isn't the final stage, my final place to be. Okay, that sounds stupid, doesn't it?”  
“Not at all,” John said and turned around to smile at Clara, “It doesn't sound stupid at all.”  
He heard her utter another sigh. “Maybe it's actually a good thing I ran into you. Amy would have freaked out. She and Rory have been trying for a baby for years and she is ecstatic when it comes to children. I'm not sure she would have been a big help. I was just hoping she might have a test at home.”  
“Well,” he began, “We'll be at the pharmacy in a few minutes and you'll know soon. And whatever the outcome, I'm sure you will manage.”  
“Thank you,” Clara said earnestly, “You're a great listener.”  
“Just trying my best.”  
When John thought the conversation was over, Clara spoke again. “I don't know. Everyone else just seems. . . settled. Martha and Mickey are married. Amy and Rory are _totally_ married and they all seem fine and I'm just terrified.”  
“Of what?” John asked, “Getting married? It's just a ring and a signature. But I could be wrong. I've never been married. Maybe you're right and it's horrible.”  
Clara huffed. “I don't think it's horrible. But whenever I think about marriage or kids, my mind just screams ' _not yet, not yet_ '.”  
“So you're not ready yet, that's nothing to feel bad about.”  
“Truth is, I'm a control freak,” she said honestly, “And in a marriage, or when having children, you hand part of the control over to someone else and I'm not sure I'll ever feel ready for that. Why have _you_ never married?”  
John quickly looked away from Clara and spotted something that could save him from this question. “Oh look,” he pointed towards a building, “Is that the pharmacy?”

John pulled his car onto the parking lot and stopped right in front of the pharmacy. Clara, now a little nervous again, went in in front of him and bought the test. John saw that her hands were shaking a little when the pharmacist handed her the small box. He was in a hurry to buy a few basic meds and already swallowed an aspirin on his way back to the car as he feared the coffee would not do the trick anymore. They drove back to the street in silence and whenever John glanced over to Clara, he saw her turn the pregnancy test in her hands, but he was afraid to say anything else to comfort her, lest it turned into more questions about himself that he would like to avoid. A short while later he parked his car back in his own driveway and was about to step outside when he noticed that Clara didn't move.  
“Are you okay?” John asked carefully.  
Clara turned to look at him, her large, dark eyes so full of fright. She was back to being a nervous wreck again.  
“John,” she tried to take a deep breath, “I know this is a lot to ask of someone you barely even know, but would you mind waiting for the result with me? Depending on the outcome I could either use a hug or huge glass of something with a lot of alcohol. I really don't wanna do this on my own.”  
John raised his eyebrow. “I'm sincerely hoping the second option is for a negative result.”  
Even in her state of terror Clara laughed for a moment. “Yes, that's for the negative result. Mind if I use your bathroom?”  
“Not at all. Come on, let's go inside!”

Clara immediately vanished behind the bathroom door and emerged about a minute later, holding the test in her hand.  
“How long does it take?” he asked.  
“It said five minutes,” she sighed and leaned back against the wall, her eyes wandering over the empty living room, “Where's your furniture?”  
“It's being delivered from Glasgow in a few weeks, as soon as my sister is done packing it all up,” John explained.  
Clara nodded. “Well, if you need help setting it up – I owe you for this.”  
“Unless you're pregnant, in which case, no heavy lifting.”  
Again a sigh escaped from her throat. “Unless I'm pregnant.”  
“If it's any consolation, I think Alex would be happy. He seems like a decent guy,” John found himself saying.  
At first, a groan was all he got for a reply, then Clara continued, sounding very annoyed. “Yes, yes, Alex would love it, he'd be ecstatic. He wants this perfect life with a nice house and three kids and a minivan and a pretty wife he can show off to his colleagues. I was perfectly happy back in our old flat and one day, shortly after his promotion, he comes home and tells me he's bought a house and the next thing I know is that I'm packing boxes and moving into a house I never agreed to. But I won't give him the satisfaction. Not this time. _I_ control what comes out of this womb and not him!”  
She had been working herself up as she had been speaking and had practically screamed the last part at him. As much as John wanted to be a part of his son's life, this was probably a lot more information than Clara would have shared with him had she known who he was.  
“Clara,” John began carefully, “Calm down. If you're unhappy, you should talk to Alex before making any rash decisions. I'm sure he'd want to meet you halfway.”  
“I'm not angry, I'm just-,” Clara stopped as her eyes went to the pregnancy test in her hand, “-not pregnant.”  
“Not pregnant?”  
Clara beamed at him, holding up the test. “Just one line. Not pregnant. I'm not pregnant!” she almost screamed in happiness and before he knew what was happening, she had flung her arms around his neck in a hug. John stood as still as he could, his own arms pressed tightly against his body. The proximity scared and unsettled him again, though he was sure that Clara never noticed this. For a not pregnant woman she surely was emotional. Or maybe this was normal? It had been too long for him without the presence of a woman, he had forgotten what they could be like.  
“Oh thank God,” Clara said in relief as she let go of him and stepped back, taking another look at the test just to be sure, “Okay, this needs to be celebrated. What have you got?”  
“Uhm, beer?” John thought about it for a moment, “Oh, wait, I think my sister packed something.”  
He went into the kitchen where a few packed boxes were still stacking up and rummaged through some of them until he found the bottle of Scotch that his sister had packed him as a farewell gift and reminder of Glasgow. Clara's touch still burned on his neck and John felt so nervous and insecure about it that he though a few sips of Scotch couldn't hurt. He grabbed the bottle and two glasses from the box and headed back into the living room, setting them all down on the small wooden table.  
“Is Scotch okay?” he asked.  
“It'll do,” Clara confirmed and waited for him to pour each of them a small amount.  
John handed her the glass and took a sip, watching Clara down all of it in just one go. Her face quickly turned into a grimace.  
“This is gross,” she said, setting the glass down on the table.  
John just shrugged. “You get used to it, I guess.”  
Clara took a deep breath and for the first time today he saw her smile. Not laugh, but smile in earnest. “Thank you, John, for everything you did and said.”  
“No problem at all,” he replied honestly.  
“I owe you. As soon as your furniture arrives, you're gonna call me and I'll help with the set-up, okay?”  
He nodded. “Deal.”  
Clara was about to turn around and head for the door, when suddenly she looked back, still holding up the negative pregnancy test. “Uhm, one more tiny favour? Could I throw this in your bin? I'd hate for Alex to find it accidentally.”  
“Sure,” he replied, “Bins are right by the front door.”  
“Thanks,” Clara said and threw him another grateful glance before she headed out of the door.

John downed the rest of his Scotch the way Clara had done it. He had been living on this street a little over a week and he was already helping Clara to keep secrets from his son. This was not going like he had wanted it to, not at all, but at least Clara was lovely and wonderful and she had made John part of her life so quickly that it was only a matter of time until he got to know Alex a little better as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :)


	4. Chapter 4

Clara woke up, feeling Alex' arm wrapped tightly around her and she sighed in content. It was a Sunday, which meant that they could sleep in for as long as they wanted. There was no sun coming through the blinds at all, so it was either still early, or they were facing a rainy day and Clara decided to close her eyes again and sleep some more when Alex began shifting closer to her.  
“Good morning,” he mumbled sleepily, pressing himself more tightly against her.  
Clara smiled as she felt something hard pressed against her back.  
“Someone's up early,” she replied in a humming voice as he began kissing her neck, “Did you remember to buy the condoms?”  
Alex made a sound and suddenly Clara's mood vanished in an instant. She pushed herself away from him and turned around to be able to look at Alex.  
“You forgot, didn't you?”  
“I didn't forget,” he grumbled, his eyes only half open, “I remembered, but I was too lazy to stop at a shop after work.”  
“Well, that settles it then,” Clara said grumpily and pulled the duvet up to her chin, closing her eyes again, although she knew that sleep would be impossible now.  
“Honey,” Alex hummed sweetly as he tried to pull her closer again, “You're on the pill. Nothing's gonna happen. And even if-”  
“Do not finish that sentence or I swear to God I'll push you out of bed,” she said threateningly, but without opening her eyes.  
She heard Alex sigh. “Nothing happened the last time.”  
_Nothing he knew of_ , Clara though and sat up in bed immediately. She gave Alex a slight punch in the shoulder.  
“Ow,” he replied, “What was _that_ for?”  
“Last time was entirely your fault!” Clara said angrily, “You know exactly that I get frisky when I drink and you should've had the brains to use extra protection!”  
Now Alex struggled into a sitting position as well, looking very much confused over Clara's sudden outburst.  
“Yes, I'm taking the blame for what happened after the dinner party and I'm sorry I forgot to buy the condoms. Now, please, can we stop fighting? Nothing happened and we'll be careful that nothing will happen until we both decide that it's a good idea to have a child. Okay?”  
Clara took a deep breath, looking at him and suddenly feeling slightly guilty. She had overreacted and Alex didn't understand – simply because she hadn't told him.  
“I thought something _had_ happened,” Clara confessed, her voice low, and avoided his gaze.  
“What?”  
“I thought I was pregnant. But I'm not.”  
“When did that happen?” Alex asked and his voice sounded so accusatory that she started to feel even worse than she had before.  
“Last week. I got sick at school in the morning, which was probably nothing more than bad breakfast, and one of my colleagues made a joke about me being pregnant. I panicked. I remembered the night after the dinner party and after school I immediately went home and took a test,” she explained.  
“Why didn't you tell me about that?” he said as he reached for her hand, “I should have known. We're a team, remember?”  
Originally her plan had been to not to tell him at all, which only made her feel all the more guilty.  
“I know. But I thought maybe. . .,” she paused, “Maybe you'd get too excited and ask to have kids immediately. I know you want kids, don't even try to deny it.”  
“I want children, yes, but I also want _you_ to want them. I wouldn't force anything on you that you don't want.”  
“You forced this house on me.”  
Clara regretted the words as soon as they had come out of her mouth. It was the old argument, the one they had been having on and off since moving into the house and Clara had sworn to never bring it up again. Alex immediately dropped her hand and got out of bed. He grabbed his robe and vanishing onto the corridor.  
Clara fell back into the pillows with a sigh when she heard the shower running next door. She would apologize to Alex later.

 

* * *

 

The next day Clara was finally able to pick up her motorcycle from the shop after school. The inspection had gone smoothly and now she was free to ride it through the entire city – or out of the city if she so wished and she loved the feeling of the roaring engine under her, Clara would even go so far and say it was better than sex. Her problems all felt so far away when she was driving, like she was leaving them behind as she went and the only thing that made her cut her trip short was the increasing cold of the early October air. She and Alex had come to a truce, although she could still feel the resentment in his look whenever she mentioned something even remotely related to the house. It retrospect, Clara would take back the words if she could. It had been really unfair to bring up the house again, as she had made her opinion clear back then and he had promised not to do something like that ever again. Clara had forgiven him, so it had been a bad move to still use it against him in an argument, even though, if given the chance, she'd choose their old flat over the house any time.  
When she closed in on the house, Clara could see a moving van parked on the street and a rather furious looking John was standing right next to it, taking on the phone. She pulled up in her driveway, parked her motorcycle and walked across the street to say hello.

“Yes, it looks like it's everything, but that doesn't change the fact that the movers you hired just ditched me,” he said into the phone.  
“Hey,” Clara greeted him as she walked up to the van, “Do you need help unloading?”  
John's eyes wandered to her face and and his expression lit up a little.  
“Donna, listen, thanks for everything. Problem's solved. I'll call you back later.”  
He hung up and slid the phone into the pocket of his jeans before giving Clara a warm smile.  
“Was that your sister?” Clara asked, “Did your stuff get here safely?”  
“Yes,” he confirmed, “That was her and the movers she hired threw me the car keys and said they'd pick the empty van back up in 2 hours.”  
Clara threw a quick glance inside the vehicle and shrugged. “Shouldn't be a problem. We can manage.”  
“You are an angel, Clara Oswald,” John replied with a smile.  
“I told you, I owe you. I'm just gonna change into something more suitable,” she said and pointed down at her dress, “I'll be back in 5 minutes.”

Clara darted across the street and into the house. She left her bag by the door and immediately went up into the bedroom and picked something casual – and old pair of jeans and a jumper. Putting her hair into a ponytail, she had to secure a few loose strands with pins. It just wouldn't hold in place ever since she had cut it.  
Just as she was about to run back down the stairs, she heard Alex' voice from the corridor.  
“Babe, your motorcycle is blocking the driveway!”  
Clara came rushing down the stairs and greeted Alex with a peck on the cheek. “I know, I'll move it later,” she said, slightly out of breath, “I'll be home later, promised John I'd help him with his furniture.”  
She was already on her way to the door when Alex asked: “You promised. . . when did that happen?”  
“Later!” replied and closed the front door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments :) I'm glad you're all enjoying the story!


	5. Chapter 5

It was a Friday evening and Clara sank into the sofa cushions after Alex had banned her from the bedroom, insisting that he could pack his own suitcase. His flight to Seattle would leave in a few hours and a part of her was looking forward to a whole week with no school and no boyfriend. _Just me, myself and I_ , Clara thought and it seemed like the exact thing she needed right now. He had asked her to join him, suggested to make a nice trip out of it, but Clara had declined, knowing she would just sit around in the hotel room, waiting for him to finish work, and Alex had admitted that his schedule would be full. Besides, things hadn't been exactly harmonious between them, even though they hadn't had a real fight since that Sunday she had mentioned her pregnancy scare. Clara was convinced that some time apart would do them good and their relationship would resume normally after they had both cooled down a little. She actually looked forward to missing him.  
A short while later Clara heard him drag the suitcase down the stairs and rose from her seat to help him with the last steps.  
“Do you have everything? Passport? Plane ticket? Sleeping mask for the flight?” she asked.  
Alex gave her a peck on the forehead. “Yes, _Mum_ ,” he chuckled.  
“Don't call me _Mum_ ,” Clara frowned, “That's really weird.”  
“I also have this,” he announced while rummaging through his briefcase, “I wanted to wait until I get back, but I thought you might want to practice beforehand.”  
“Practice what?” she asked in confusion as he handed her an envelope, “What is this?”  
A smile appeared on Alex' face. “My company is hosting a big Christmas ball this year, remember? We bought the tickets two months ago? Well, and I thought we could use some practice.”  
To Clara Alex was speaking in riddles, so she tore the envelope open and found an admission letter to a dancing course that was due to start a week after his return from Seattle.  
“You signed us up for a dancing course?” Clara asked, staring at him in disbelief. She couldn't believe that he had done it again and decided something over her head.  
“Yes,” he beamed at her, “I'm a lousy dancer and I thought you might want some practice as well. It's also a nice thing for us to do together. It starts in the first November week, every Monday and Wednesday evening.”  
Clara sighed as she placed the letter on the small table next to her. “Alex, I know you meant well, but-”  
He groaned in reply before she even had a chance to finish her sentence and Clara immediately knew that they were in for another fight.  
“You always do this,” he said in an accusatory tone, “I try to do something nice for you, for us, and you immediately dismiss it as a bad idea.”  
“I never said it was a bad idea,” Clara defended herself, “The idea is nice. The fact that you never asked me is not!”  
“It was supposed to be a _surprise_! What kind of surprise would it be if I had asked you first?!” he yelled at her.  
“See, this is the house all over again! You get an idea that you _think_ I'll like and you just go ahead without asking me. Did it ever cross your mind that I might not want to do it, or that I might have other plans? This is a two month long commitment!”  
Alex took a deep breath and buried his face in his hands. “Clara, I swear to God, if you bring up the house one more time I will sell it and we can move back into the tiny flat that you loved so much. I've had it with that! I've been apologizing for over a year, hoping that one day you will just learn to let it go, and yet you never do! I'm sick of that!”  
Clara shrugged. “I'd be happy to move somewhere else, as long as you _ask me first_! I'm a person, Alex, not a piece of furniture! I'm your girlfriend!”  
“Oh, because you treated me like your boyfriend when you thought you might be pregnant – by telling me over a week later! But I bet you told Amy, right? Or Martha?”  
Clara would have loved to tell him that it was John who had known, but she thought better of it. “Neither of them knew, Alex, and if it makes you happy, yes, I will attend the course with you, just like I moved into this house with you, but if you keep treating me like you're the one in charge of this relationship, don't be surprised if one day I am just going to say no.”  
“It was a surprise, Clara! In case you didn't know, that's something nice boyfriends do for their girlfriends!”  
The door bell interrupted their fight and Alex took a deep breath.  
“That's the taxi,” he said coldly.  
“See you in a week!”

Alex slammed the door behind him and Clara found herself in the empty house for the first time since they had moved here. She took a deep breath and suddenly felt relief over not having to see him for the next week. In her heart she knew that he had meant well, that he had wanted to do something nice, but there was another voice inside her that told her that Alex had known her for 6 years now. He knew what she was like, knew she hated being surprised and yet he continued to do things without consulting her. Maybe Clara should talk to Amy and Rory about it, or Martha and Mickey who had been together even longer, maybe it was a normal stage in their relationship that would pass soon, but the thought of telling her friends about the fight made her stomach turn. They usually sided with Alex and she would just end up feeling bad about it. No, what Clara really needed was someone who would listen to her without judging, who would avoid taking sides and tell her everything would be fine. And she knew only one such person.  
Clara opened one of the kitchen cabinets where she stored the bottle of Glenfiddich that she had bought at the shop earlier this week, for no apparent reason, but now it seemed it would come in handy. 

With the bottle in her hand she marched across the street and rang the door bell. It took John quite some time, but finally he opened the door and he looked exactly like she felt. He seemed tired and his hair was a mess and it was also the first time Clara saw him wearing glasses.  
“Rough day?” she asked.  
John groaned. “Like you wouldn't believe.”  
Instead of replying Clara showed him the bottle of Scotch that she had brought.  
“I feel like getting drunk. How about you?” she asked.  
John just nodded and held the door open for her to step inside.  
“Come on in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :)


	6. Chapter 6

“So, what's been bothering you today?” Clara asked once she had set the Scotch down on the coffee table. She looked around and realized it was starting to look a lot homelier now with the furniture all set up.  
John entered the living room shortly after her and pointed at the laptop on the table. “Writing invoices. Some people still owe me money back in Scotland – from two months ago. If they keep not paying, I will have to find another job,” he said as he sank down on the sofa.  
Clara took the seat next to him. “Well, you could always apply at my school. As far as I know we're still looking for another caretaker.”  
“I might have to if they all refuse to pay. I've still got eight e-mails to write.”  
Clara raised an eyebrow at him. “You're not really good with computers, are you?”  
“What gave me away?” John asked warily.  
“Cause you can copy and paste the same text and just change the name and the amount of money they owe you. Eight e-mails is nothing. Do you have a list?”  
“Uhm,” John muttered as he went through the paperwork next to the laptop before handing her a couple of sheets, “These are the ones. Here's the e-mail address and there is the total sum.”  
She glanced at it for a moment. “Give me five minutes. Why don't you get the glasses?”  
Clara watched him vanish behind the kitchen door and took a deep breath. She couldn't really explain why, but John always had a calming effect on her and already did she feel like her problems weren't so bad after all. It was as if she had dropped the baggage of her fight with Alex at the front door and now all she had to do was finish John's e-mails before the relaxing part of the evening could begin. He came back to join her on the sofa shortly after and Clara showed him how to copy and paste a written text and even saved one of the invoices as drafts in his account so he could use it later.  
“It looks so simple when you do it. It took me an hour to write three mails,” he said as he poured them both the Glenfiddich she had brought.  
Clara closed the lid of the laptop and accepted her drink.  
“I thought you hated Scotch?” John asked her when she distorted her face after the first sip.  
“Yeah, and I still do. I don't even really know why I bought it. But hey,” she raised her glass before downing the content.  
She felt John eye her suspiciously. “Is everything alright?”  
“No,” she replied as she poured herself another glass, “I had a huge fight with Alex.”  
John sighed, glancing at the drink in his hand before he emptied the glass. “Okay, now I'm all ears. Shoot!”

Clara told him everything, starting with the morning she had confessed her pregnancy scare to Alex and the two very odd weeks that had followed the incident. She told him how she was still mad at him about something he had done over a year ago and how he had repeated that mistake by signing them up for dancing lessons without consulting her first, including the rather mean things they had thrown at each other earlier. John listened to her story intently. 

“Dancing lessons? That's it?” John scoffed.  
“I knoooow. It's absolutely silly,” she said, taking another gulp, “I hate that we're always fighting lately. But he's just so. . . he really knows how to push my buttons. And then I just. . . say things and it turns into an argument.”  
Clara set her glass aside for the moment, thinking that she should probably have eaten something as she was already beginning to feel lightheaded. She definitely wanted to hear John's opinion before she might not remember it the next morning.  
“You should talk to him. Talk to Alex. I'm sure he meant well.”  
“He's in Seattle for the next week,” Clara explained.  
John shrugged. “Maybe 'tis a good thing. Maybe he'll have forgotten all about it next week.”  
“Are you sure?”  
“Yeah. You'll be fine. He'd be crazy to stay mad at a lass like you for long,” John said and pointed towards her.  
Clara was sure there was a hidden compliment in there somewhere and she felt her cheeks blush. “Are you drunk already?” she asked, giggling.  
He looked at her as if he had been caught doing something bad. “Maybe,” he mumbled and quickly glanced away, “Bit out of practice.”  
“Well, in that case,” Clara bent forward and poured them both another shot before she handed his glass back to him, “For practice!”  
She drank a bit of it and somehow the taste didn't seem as bad anymore. With a sigh she sank against the back of the sofa. “I'm really glad you moved here, John,” she said honestly, “Talking to you just feels really easy.”  
“Oh?” he asked, arching up his eyebrows.  
“Yeah. Had I gone to Amy or Martha I'd be a guilt-ridden, crying wreck by now. You. . . you just listen and tell me it's gonna be fine.”  
“To be honest,” he said, shaking his head slightly, “I dunno if it's gonna be fine. A'm just tellin' you to make you feel better.”  
He sat his glass down on the table and rolled up his sleeves before sinking back into the cushions, a look on his face that Clara couldn't really determine. She looked at him for a moment, his lean figure against the back of the couch and she found herself wondering if he was built as well as he appeared. He surely must have at least a trace of muscle, judging by his job, and when they had set up the furniture he had lifted even the heavy pieces without visible effort.  
John did look good for his age, especially now that his hair was tousled and the glasses somehow just added to his charm. Clara wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Ever since she had started dating Alex, there had been only one other person that she had kissed and that person had been Amy at a game night during a round of truth or dare. A part of her was curious what John would taste like, what it would feel like to run her tongue over his lips that looked so soft and inviting to her. Clara imagined herself climbing on top of him, burying her fingers in those silver curls and just kissing him. She could do it. She wanted to do it.  
“What are you looking at?” John asked suddenly, raising an eyebrow, and his voice brought her back to earth.  
What the hell had she been thinking? She couldn't kiss him. Oh, why was she always like this when she was drinking?  
“Nothin',” Clara replied and quickly finished her drink.  
“The dance lessons,” John said and Clara noticed that apparently he found it increasingly hard to speak properly, as did she, but she always found a way to express herself, “Practising for your wedding?”  
“God no!” Clara exclaimed, “Just some company event. . . Christmas. . . thingy.”  
She remained silent for a moment when the room suddenly seemed to be turning, a clear sign that it was time for her to set down the glass.  
“'tis gonna be _horrible_ ,” she spat, “I haaaate dancing. I dunno how to do it.”

Without a warning John scrambled to his feet next to her and, swaying slightly, he offered her his hand. Clara raised an eyebrow at him.  
“You wanna dance _now_?”  
“I was preeeeetty good in m'youth,” he said.  
Still not entirely convinced it was a good idea in her current state, Clara took his hand and as soon as she was on her feet and felt the blood rush through her head, she regretted her decision. Unsteady as she was, she immediately fell against his chest. His warm, comfortable, very attractive chest. And he smelled good, too, and she was too aware of his hand on her waist. Immediately she distanced herself from him before she even had the chance to act on her drunken impulses.  
“Okay, baaaad idea. Let's try this some other time. Sober,” she said before she sank back down on the sofa. The alcohol was really beginning to kick in now.  
John sat back down as well, apparently relieved to not have to rely on his feet anymore. “I'm tellin' you, I was good,” he insisted.  
Clara sighed. “Maybe teach me some other time.”  
“Yeah,” John agreed.  
“I should probly. . .pro-ba-. . . ooookay, _definitely_ call it a night,” she concluded.  
“I'll take you home.”  
Clara snorted. “Sorry, but, I don' trust you to find to find your way back.”  
She watched John shrug. “You can stay here. If y' like.”  
She considered it for a moment, thinking that she still had enough common sense left inside of her to not act on her impulses as long as she slept on the sofa. And it was John she was talking about, her neighbour, whom she trusted completely for some reason.  
“Okay,” Clara agreed. Anything was better than staying at the empty house where she was reminded of her fight with Alex.  
“Take the bed,” John drawled and pointed towards a closed door next to the kitchen door, “I'll sleep on the sofa.”  
“No, 'tis your bed. I'll take the couch.”  
“I insist. Y're the guest,” he said with as much determination as he could muster and Clara was feeling too tired and too drunk to argue any further.  
She scrambled to her feet and slowly staggered off into the direction of the bedroom he had just pointed at. Finally at the door, she turned around to see John getting comfortable on the sofa.  
“G'night,” she said.  
“Night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments :)


	7. Chapter 7

Clara kept tossing and turning in the strange bed and every time she fell asleep, she experienced the weirdest of dreams and she regretted her decision to stay very soon. She couldn't tell if it was because of her fight with Alex, or because of the scent of John's aftershave that clung to the pillow and she kept breathing it in while trying to sleep, but Clara mainly dreamed about John. And herself. And in her dream she acted out what she had been reasonable enough not to do during the evening. She also dreamed of Alex, who didn't play much of a role, but was a lingering presence, tormenting her with guilt. Soon Clara could feel the hangover creeping up on her and she was relieved when the sun came up, blinding her through the window. She threw the duvet aside and tottered sleepily in the direction of the living room.  
John was still asleep on the sofa, so Clara decided to sneak out as quietly as possible where the freezing temperature hit her like a sledgehammer and only seemed to increase her headache. A glance at her watch told Clara it was already 8 am and she stopped at her letter box to retrieve the morning newspaper. 

“Morning!” a disgustingly cheerful voice almost made her jump and Clara looked up to see Amy jog down the street towards her.  
“You're up early,” Amy said happily as she came to a halt next to Clara, who only grunted in reply, “Uhhh, you look like you've used Alex' absence to throw a wild self-party.”  
“No talking,” she grumbled and turned around to walk towards the house.  
“Alright. See you later!” her friend said and continued her morning run.  
Clara kicked off her shoes by the door and threw the newspaper on the floor next to them before she made her way upstairs. She needed a shower and she needed sleep, real, relaxing, dreamless sleep.  
Her head felt slightly better under the running warm water and Clara finally had a chance to think clearly. Yesterday had gone anything but well. She regretted the fight with Alex, although she was still unable to say who had been right and who had been wrong. She also felt slightly guilty over her thoughts about John, although she really had the alcohol to blame for that. Clara always got like that when she was drinking, but usually her thoughts circled around her boyfriend, not the new, significantly older neighbour. She didn't fancy him, not really, although she had to admit that for his age he was indeed good looking. It probably had just been due to her fight with Alex and meant nothing at all.  
Clara stepped out of the shower, dried herself off and wrapped herself in the bathrobe before heading to her bedroom. She could do with a few more hours of sleep, at least until the worst of the headache had passed and now that she was back in her own sheets, she found it much easier to drift off.

Suddenly the ringing of the phone tore her from her half sleep. For a long moment Clara considered not answering it at all but when the ringing didn't cease, she reached for the device and answered.  
“Yeah?” she croaked into the phone before even checking who it was.  
“I'm sorry, Clara. I know it's early for you but I just wanted to apologize.”  
“Alex?” she asked sleepily.  
“Is there another idiot who owes you an apology?”  
Clara groaned. This wasn't helping her headache in the slightest. She wasn't even remotely in a state where she could pick up yesterday's fight.  
“Are you feeling alright, Clara? You sound either still mad or sick.”  
“Hangover. Don't ask. I was mad.”  
“Are you still mad?” Alex wanted to know.  
It was a very good question, one she had no answer to if she was completely honest. Guilty, yes, angry – she didn't know.  
“I don't know. Don't think so,” she replied after a moment, “I'm sorry for what I said. You did something nice. It wasn't fair. And I'm looking forward to stepping on your feet.”  
She heard Alex chuckle. “And I'm sorry, too. I really meant well, but you're right. I should have checked with you first, it's a long term commitment after all. From now on I will only surprise you with boring things. Flowers, your favourite meal, a nice book, a massage, you get the idea.”  
“A massage sounds really good right now. Come back here and take care of your hungover girlfriend,” she ordered him dreamily.  
“So we're good?” Alex asked.  
Clara took a deep breath. “Yes, we're good.”  
She heard him sigh in relief. “Can I sleep now?” Clara asked.  
“Yes, I'll let you sleep. Call me tomorrow?”  
“I will. Love you,” she said sleepily.  
“Love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

John was glad to have bought the aspirin a while ago, because today it would definitely come in handy. His first thought, after acknowledging the hammering pain in his temples, was Clara, and he checked the bedroom to find it empty. He hadn't noticed when she had left, but he would place a pretty high bet on it that she was feeling just as miserable as he was.  
After downing the aspirin with a glass of water he went back to the sofa and closed his eyes, waiting for the pain to go away. He really wasn't used to Scotch anymore, not after not drinking for 25 years, but at least he still had the memories of last night. It had been odd, really. He usually felt so uncomfortable touching people, but last night John hadn't really minded it that much, not with Clara at least. He would have loved to dance with her, if only to see if he still knew the steps, if he had been able to. He had promised to show her and now he was praying she wouldn't take him up on that offer.  
The plan to befriend his son was going into a completely wrong direction and instead he was on the best way to befriend his girlfriend instead, who came to him with her relationship problems. It was wrong, really, really wrong.

But Clara was a lovely woman and John found it so hard to say no to her. When she had showed up with the Scotch and her big puppy dog eyes to talk about her problems with Alex, John had known that it would be wiser to turn her down, that she wouldn't have come to him at all if she had known he was Alex' father, that the kind of friendship she had in mind was not possible between the two of them, but Clara had looked at him and his wisdom had gone out of the window. He just really, _really_ liked her and John was hoping that, whatever the problem between the two of them was, Clara and Alex would be able to fix it, because if Alex lost Clara, so would he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :)


	8. Chapter 8

Just as she was pushing her motorcycle out if the garage to drive to the supermarket, Clara spotted something odd going on at John's house. She hadn't seen him since that night and her original plan had been to stay away from him for a while, but Clara just couldn't ignore the stranger creeping around John's house early in the morning and trying to look inside through the windows.  
“Excuse me,” Clara called across the street, “Can I help you with something?”  
Oddly enough, the stranger didn't appear to be embarrassed or startled to have been caught by her. Instead he gave her a polite smile and made his way across the street to meet Clara.  
“Yes, maybe you can,” he said, “I was looking for John Smith. That's his house, isn't it?”  
“Yes,” Clara replied warily, raising an eyebrow. She looked at his driveway and saw that it was empty, “His car isn't there, so he's probably out on a job.”  
“That's a shame,” the man replied, but still had that polite smile stuck on his face as if it never came off.  
Clara shrugged slightly. “Why don't you give me your name and phone number and I'll tell John to call you when he gets home?”  
Finally the smile on the man's face faded away and he looked uneasy. He was young, probably around Clara's age, and whatever his business with John was, he didn't seem willing to share it with her.  
“Are you his neighbour?” the stranger inquired.  
“More of a friend, really. And who are you?”  
Clara had enough of this game and since this man clearly wanted something from John, she couldn't understand his hesitation or why all of a sudden he looked so uncomfortable.  
“His friend, you say?” the man asked again.  
“Yes,” she hissed sharply, “So either you tell me what you came here for or I'm going to call the police and tell them you've been trespassing.”

The man sighed and finally pulled a card from the pocket of his jacket and handed it to Clara. She glanced at it. And blinked. And read it again, just to be sure her eyes weren't playing a trick on her.

_Department of Corrective Services  
Chester Johnson_

Clara looked back up at the social worker and hoped that the horror she was feeling didn't show.  
“I was assigned to Mr Smith's case recently. Tell him to call me,” Mr Johnson said, “He's got nothing to worry about, we just want to make sure he's doing alright. That's all. We know that life can be tricky for a man in his situation and we just want the best for him.”  
Clara nodded absent-mindedly, still staring at the card in her hand. John had been to prison and he hadn't told her. Clara felt absolutely miserable, but she realized that they hadn't known each other for very long and that was not something he would brag about, but still. . .  
“Have a nice day,” she heard Mr Johnson say and just nodded again in reply. Then she finally pocketed the card and headed back to her motorbike. 

 

* * *

 

John was scrubbing his hands in the sink, but he couldn't quite get all of the grease off his skin when suddenly there was a rather furious knock on the door. John dried his hands as quickly as he could and went to answer the door, only to be greeted with a punch in the shoulder.  
“Ow,” John yelled, holding his arm, “Clara, what-”  
“You've been to prison!” she yelled and threw something at him.  
John bent down to pick it up and realized it was a card of a new social worker that had probably been sent to look after him. He must have been new, because John was pretty sure they weren't allowed to tell the neighbours about it.  
“You've been to prison and I think you forgot to tell me about that!”  
John looked back at Clara who wore a stern and angry expression on her face. He had to tell her now, that much was clear, even though he might lose her as a friend, even though he never talked about it. The past 25 years were the most painful in his entire life and he loathed to revisit them.  
He took a deep breath. “Clara, why don't you come inside? I promise, I'll explain.”  
Clara folded her arms across her chest. “No,” she replied plainly, “Who knows what you've done? You could be a murderer.”

Something about his face must have changed, because seconds later the realisation seemed to dawn on Clara.  
“Oh my God, that's what you were in for,” she said, gawking at him.  
“Please, Clara,” he pleaded, “Come inside. I swear, if I wanted to kill you I'd have done it a few days ago when you were sleeping in my bed. Just let me explain.”  
She seemed to consider it and after a long moment finally stepped inside and John closed the door behind her.  
He found her in the living room, arms still crossed and leaning against the door frame.  
“Well?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Clara was angry, _really_ angry.  
John took a deep breath and gestured towards the sofa. “Why don't you sit down? It's a rather long story,” her said wearily as he let himself sink into the cushions.  
After a moment of hesitation Clara walked over to the sofa and sat down next to him, yet John couldn't bring himself to start talking. It was a story he had repeated so many times, only to find that people didn't believe him. No one had, except maybe his sister, but even about her he wasn't entirely sure.  
“John?,” Clara asked, the anger gone from her voice, “Are you okay?”

“I was in my early 30s, living in Glasgow,” he began, sighing, “I went out with my best friend for drinks that one night, I guess. I must have because people saw us at the bar together.”  
“Wait,” Clara interrupted him for a moment, “You don't remember?”  
“I was coming to that,” John replied, “But you're right, I don't remember a thing about the last weeks before the incident. All I know is that I woke up in a vennel. I was in pain – broken ribs and fingers, head trauma, there was blood everywhere. And my best friend was lying next to me and I called an ambulance, but it was too late.”  
John watched Clara's eyes widen as the obvious question formed in her mind.  
“Before you ask: I don't know if I killed him. They said I did. My blood was all over him and the other way around. They didn't believe me when I said I couldn't remember. They said I beat him to death over a woman,” John scoffed, shaking his head, “She came to court, saying that I had flirted with her in the weeks before his death. I-” he paused, not knowing how to continue.  
Clara just stared at him with her big, sad eyes.  
“I went to prison for 25 years because I insisted that I couldn't remember. My lawyer said that if I pleaded guilty, if I showed the judge that I was sorry for what I had done, I would get away with less, but I was young and stupid and I believed that the truth would come to light. Maybe it even is the truth, I don't know. I probably never will.”  
“What?” Clara asked, “You actually think you killed your best friend?”  
John shrugged. “Don't you?”  
Clara watched him for a moment and John was beginning to feel uncomfortable under her gaze, so he started shifting his legs nervously.  
“What else could have happened?” she asked, still looking at him.  
John only shrugged. “I don't know, and I'm not sure it matters now. Whatever happened, whether I killed him or not, knowing the truth won't bring him back.”  
“It might give you some peace though,” Clara said and suddenly she was on his side of the sofa and her arms were wrapped around his neck before he could protest.  
She was pressed against him and John had no idea what to do, so he helplessly waved his arms around behind her back.  
“Clara,” he swallowed, “What are you doing?”  
Clara distanced herself from him and John was finally able to take a deep breath again.  
“I thought you might need a hug,” she said.  
“I,” he paused, unsure of how to explain it to her, “I don't really do hugging. After 25 years it just feels strange.”  
John watched her shrug. “You'll get used to it again.”

Clara rose from her seat and straightened her skirt. “I should get going. Still have some groceries to put away.”  
John followed her example and scrambled to his feet, hoping she wouldn't want to hug him again, so he kept his distance. “Thank you,” he said earnestly, “For hearing me out.”  
“You should think about it. About trying to figure out for yourself what happened that night.”  
“Maybe,” he shrugged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments :) Very glad you're liking the story.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I have already been asked what a White Elephant gift exchange is, here is an explanation for those of you who don't know: It is usually hosted around Christmas and every guest brings one wrapped gift, which is usually something very useless or ugly. 
> 
> Also, thank you all for your sweet comments :)

Clara slammed the laptop with her research shut as she heard the front door open. For a moment she was confused, but then she remembered that it was Saturday – Alex.  
“Honey, I'm home,” the familiar voice came from the corridor.  
Clara jumped from the sofa and darted out of the living room, throwing her arms around his neck as soon as she saw him.  
“Whoah, slow down,” Alex said as he placed his suitcase on the ground, “I take it that you've missed me?”  
“Yes,” Clara replied as she pecked him on the cheek, “And I'm sorry about our fight. It was silly.”  
“You said that on the phone already,” Alex replied with a smile.  
“I know, but I wanted to say it in person, too.”  
Clara followed Alex into the living room, where he immediately sank into the sofa cushions, eyeing her laptop.  
“Browsing the internet for a new man?” he asked jokingly.  
Clara nudged him in the ribs. “Nooo, silly! Just doing some research.”  
“For what?”  
For a moment she considered telling him the truth, but Clara had the suspicion that he wouldn't approve. So she settled for a lie. It wasn't technically a lie since she had been thinking about it anyway, so she only felt half bad about it.  
“Remember our last White Elephant party?” she asked.  
“How could I forget the day I ended up with a pink rubber flamingo?”  
“Well,” Clara said, “I thought this year we could do a theme party. I've been thinking about different decades and I thought the 40s would be fun? What do you say?”  
Alex frowned at her. “Don't you think White Elephant is theme enough for a party?”  
“Oh, come on,” Clara begged, “It'll be fun.”  
“It's almost two months until Christmas. Can't it wait?”  
“If we do a theme party, people should have enough time to find a costume, don't you think?”  
Alex groaned in defeat. “Alright, alright. 40s it is.”  
Clara smiled smugly as she nestled her head against his shoulder.  
“I'm glad you're back,” she said.  
She heard him take a deep breath. “I came back with good and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”  
“Uhm, the good news?” she asked as she lifted her head again to look at him.  
“The good news is that I brought you a little something from Seattle. It's in my suitcase.”  
Clara raised an eyebrow. “And the bad news?”  
“The bad news is that I have to fly back to Seattle for another week next month. In two or three weeks, they weren't sure yet.”  
“Oh,” she uttered, “Well, I guess I'll survive another week.”  
“Don't pretend,” he smiled at her, “You liked having the house to yourself for a while and that's okay. And you could take Amy to the dance lessons in my place when I'm in the U.S. You two will have a blast.”

Clara settled back against his shoulder, hating to admit that Alex was right. She had thoroughly enjoyed the time to herself and she started to wonder if that was something she should be worried about. What was wrong with her? Alex was her boyfriend, she loved him, so why hadn't she missed him as much as she should have?

 

* * *

 

Alex wasn't yet home from work and there was still an hour before they had to leave for their first dancing lesson, so Clara grabbed the articles that she had printed out and dashed across the street. John opened the door after a couple of knocks.  
“Clara,” he said, the surprise written on his face, “I didn't expect to see you today.”  
With a smile she presented him the articles.  
“What is that?” he asked, reluctantly taking the sheets of paper from her before skimming through them.  
“I did a bit of research, which really isn't easy when it's something local that has happened 25 years ago, but here are all the articles I could find,” Clara explained, but when she saw the expression on John's face, she feared that she might have made a mistake. He didn't seem at all thrilled about it.  
“I'm sorry,” she apologized quickly, “That was insensitive of me.”  
“No,” he replied, still staring at the pages in confusion, “Not at all. But why are you doing this?”  
“To help you remember,” Clara said as if it should have been obvious, “Maybe reading it will spark your memory somehow. And if not, well, it was worth a shot.”  
A smile curled around his lips. “Clara Oswald, what have I done to deserve you being so nice to me?”  
She shrugged. “You can make it up to me if you like. You said you were a good dancer.”  
“So?” John raised an eyebrow.  
“Alex won't be here for our dancing lessons in two weeks. I'm gonna need a partner.”  
John hesitated. “You know I'm not really good with touching and. . . things.”  
“All the more reason,” Clara smiled at him, “It's good practice for both of us.”  
“Well, I've offered, so I can hardly say no now,” John replied, rolling his eyes.  
“Thank you,” Clara beamed at him and got on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek before he had a chance to step backwards.  
He growled slightly when she pulled away and Clara giggled.  
“You'll get used to it,” she promised, “See you later!”

 

* * *

 

“This looks fancy,” Clara commented as they positioned themselves for their first dance lesson.  
She looked around, admiring the nicely decorated foyer of the theatre where the course took place, before her eyes wandered to the other couples, who couldn't be more varied. They weren't even the youngest, as Clara soon found out, because some 20-year-olds were there as well, learning to dance for their wedding the following year. A smile spread across her face when she spotted two elderly couples, all of them probably already in their 70s. Clara wondered if that was what she and Alex would be like in their retirement, but somehow she couldn't picture herself being that old.

The teachers arrived, one man and one woman, and gave a short introduction before quickly moving on to the first steps of the waltz, which they said would be easiest to begin with. Clara actually recalled some of those steps from her youth and copying them on her own seemed simple enough.  
“And now, let's try that in pairs,” one of the teachers said.  
Clara smiled nervously at Alex as he placed his hand on her back.  
“Try not to step on me, okay?” he said jokingly.  
“Why me?” Clara complained, “You're heavier. I should be worried.”  
She buried her fingers in his arm, suddenly feeling not comfortable with this at all as they began to work the steps together and Alex kept pushing her too far.  
“Watch it,” she muttered, “Your steps are way too big for my short legs.”  
“Those are perfectly normal sized steps, Clara, you just need to relax.”  
“I am relaxed,” she insisted, her voice harsh.  
“You're not. It's like dancing with a broomstick.”

Clara let go off his hands and stepped out of the way of the other dancers.  
“A _what_?” she asked sharply.  
Alex sighed and held out his hand again and Clara noticed the first couples already looking at them. She decided that she didn't care. “I'm sorry, Clara. Come on, let's try again.”  
For a moment she considered just leaving him standing there, but then Clara remembered the fight they had already had about the dance lessons and she didn't want to head straight into the next one. She sighed and took his hand again. They would never learn it unless they actually danced.


	10. Chapter 10

“You've got to be kidding me,” John said as Clara held the helmet in his direction. He took it reluctantly, but only to relieve her arm of the weight. There was no way he would drive to the dance lesson with her on the back of her motorcycle, “We can take my van, Clara. It's much more comfortable and it's a lot warmer. Who even drives a motorcycle in November?”  
Clara revved up the engine and grinned at him.  
“No,” he repeated, but he knew his resistance was wavering and he knew that Clara knew. It was her puppy dog eyes, those damn eyes that he couldn't say no to.  
“Oh, come on, don't be like that. It's gonna be fun.”  
John groaned in defeat and stepped closer, but as he looked more closely at the seat of the bike, he noticed something that almost changed his mind immediately.  
“Clara, your bike is hardly fit for two people. There's nothing to hold on to in the back,” he said, pointing at it.  
“Yes, there is,” she grinned, “Me.”  
John raised his eyebrows at her, something that Clara seemed to ignore on purpose. She knew he wasn't comfortable with being close to people, and she was doing this deliberately. But she was Clara and she was bossy, he saw no way to get out of this one, so John put the helmet on and sat down behind her. Carefully he placed his hands on her waist, but had to grip tighter when the motorcycle suddenly launched forward and came to a halt again after a few metres. John heard Clara laugh.  
“See, not so bad at all,” she said. “Shall we go?”  
“Yes,” he growled, but had to admit that Clara was right. It had been so long since he had been this close to someone – for more than just the duration of a short hug – but somehow he was okay after a moment of getting used to it. It was just Clara, he was comfortable around her, she was nice and he liked her. Maybe he was even getting used to touching her.

 

* * *

Clara led the way into the old theatre, John following her on her heels. She was happy that he had agreed to come with her, even though some of the other participants looked at them curiously. She felt so comfortable around John and everything just seemed easy when she was with him – and he had mentioned to be a good dancer, so she might even learn a thing or two from him. Dancing with Alex was improving, even though he still complained about Clara being too stiff, but at least it hadn't turned into a public fight.  
The teachers appeared and announced that Wednesday's lesson wouldn't take place this week.  
“That's good, right?” John said to her in a low voice, “At least Alex won't miss much.”  
Clara nodded, although she wasn't entirely sure it was good news. She had actually been looking forward to spending more time with John.  
“And since we wrapped up the Viennese Waltz last week, it's now time to see if you can still remember the Slow Waltz that we learned in our first two lessons,” the female teacher said, “Please, take your positions.”  
“Do you remember the steps?” Clara asked as John took her hand.  
He shrugged slightly. “Slow Waltz – easy.”  
“Where did you even learn to dance?”  
“Back in school. It was mandatory for everyone,” he smiled shyly, “I was never really popular with the girls, but suddenly every lass wanted to go to the ball with me.”  
Clara giggled. “Who did you take?”  
“My best friend - Sarah,” he explained.  
She couldn't help but smile because Clara could absolutely picture him as a teenager, surrounded by all those pretty girls who had suddenly noticed that he existed because he was a good dancer and he had still done the gentlemanly thing and taken his best friend to the school ball.  
The music started to play and John took the first step, surprising Clara, so she almost stumbled over her own feet.  
“I'm sorry,” she apologized quickly.  
“Don't worry, let's try again,” he said calmly.  
Clara sighed. “I'm a horrible dancer. I'm so sorry you have to put up with me.”  
John smiled at her, adjusting his hands on her and suddenly Clara noticed that he didn't seem to mind touching her at all right now.  
“You just need to relax, Clara. No one's pressuring you,” John explained, “Close your eyes.”  
“What? Why?” she asked in surprise.  
“I need you to trust me to lead you. It's easier with your eyes closed.”  
“Okay,” Clara took a deep breath and closed her eyes.  
She heard John count to three before he moved forward. Resisting the urge to open her eyes again, she allowed John to guide her over the dance floor. To her surprise he was right, it was indeed easier with her eyes closed and for the first time she danced without awkwardly bumping her feet into her dance partner or stepping on toes or giving up prematurely because she couldn't bare the feeling of being pushing through the room. It didn't feel like pushing at all – John really was a natural at this. Clara wasn't sure how it looked to the others, but for the first time she was almost having fun.  
“Very good, Clara,” she heard the male teacher say to her as he passed through the dancing couples, correcting steps and postures.  
She smiled.  
“See, not so bad after all,” John said as they came to a halt when the dance ended.  
She opened her eyes again, looking at him with a nervous laugh. “Well, you're a natural. Of course it wasn't so bad.”  
“That wasn't just me, Clara. You're good. You just need to relax, that's all.”

The time passed too quickly for Clara's taste and it was over when she was just starting to thoroughly enjoy herself. She really regretted that she wouldn't get to take him to another lesson. Clara took his arm as they headed out of the theatre and she was glad that he let her.  
“Do you want to go home?” John asked.  
She didn't, not really. “I'm kind of hungry,” Clara admitted.  
John pointed to something across the street. “That Italian place looks nice. Wanna check it out?”  
“I'd love to,” Clara replied with a smile and they crossed the street to the restaurant, soon finding a quiet table in the corner to sit down at.  
After glancing at the menu they both decided to order a large pizza and Clara hungrily bit into the first slice as soon as it arrived.  
“I followed your advice, by the way,” John said after a moment.  
“About reading the articles?”  
“That, too, but I was talking about the job,” he paused, “I applied at your school.”  
“Really?” Clara asked in surprise, “What did they say?”  
“They invited me for an interview. It's tomorrow, actually.”  
“When?” she demanded to know, “I need to see you afterwards. I want to know how it went.”  
“Twelve o'clock,” John replied, taking a bite off his pizza.  
“Great, I'll see you in my lunch break then,” Clara smiled and paused for a moment before adding: “I'm having a really great time tonight.”  
She didn't know what had made her say it, but it was the truth. Clara had only known John for a little over a month and she had come to really like him. It was unusual, given their age difference, but she felt so good when he was around that the rest didn't seem to matter anymore.  
“I'm enjoying the evening, too. And, of course, your company,” he replied honestly.

Clara yawned heartily as they walked back to where she had parked her motorbike.  
“Tired?” he asked.  
“A little,” she lied, “Okay, yes, I want nothing more than to fall into my pillows and sleep for three days straight.”  
“Do you want me to drive back? You can rest,” John suddenly suggested.  
Clara eyed him warily. “Do you even have a licence?”  
“Clara,” he said, his voice full of disappointment, “I grew up in the 70s. Of course I have a licence for motorbikes.”  
“Alright,” she said, tossing him the keys which he caught at the last moment, “Let's see what you can do.”

John mounted the bike and Clara climbed onto the seat behind him. She had never really felt comfortable being the passenger, but it was a little different when John was driving. He drove steadily, maybe a bit too careful for her taste, but he probably hadn't sat on a motorbike in a while and Clara wrapped her arms around his chest. He flinched for a second when she tightened her grip, but she soon felt him relax. He was learning to deal with her touch and Clara found herself smiling at the thought of that as she rested her head against his back. 

“That wasn't bad at all,” Clara smiled after she had taken off her helmet while John secured the bike on its kickstand.  
It was already dark now and the light in her driveway didn't switch on, but Clara still saw that John was admiring her motorcycle.  
“It's a nice bike,” he commented before he turned around to look at her, “It was a nice evening.”  
“Yeah,” Clara replied dreamily and took a step closer to hug him. For a brief moment she wondered what would happen if she kissed him.

“Clara!”  
She turned around to see Amy running towards her and she was looking utterly distressed.  
“I should go,” John said and left the helmet on the seat of the motorcycle, “See you tomorrow.”  
“Good night,” Clara replied, her voice sad, before she turned her attention back to her friend, whose timing couldn't have been worse, “Amy, what in God's name is going on?”  
She had finally reached Clara, completely out of breath and looking as if she had been crying. “I had a fight with Rory. Can I come in?”  
“Sure, come on,” Clara said and as she led her friend to the front door, she turned around one more time. She caught a last glimpse of John before he stepped into his house, but he didn't see her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments :D Ohhh, you guys just know there's trouble ahead, don't you? ;)


	11. Chapter 11

Clara came back from the kitchen, holding two steaming cups of hot tea, and handed one of them to Amy. She sniffled, but took the mug.  
“Thanks,” Amy croaked.  
“Why don't you tell me what's wrong?” Clara asked as she sat down on the sofa next to her friend.  
“It's Rory,” she said, “I think we're going to get a divorce.”  
“No,” Clara replied immediately, “What makes you say that? You are perfect for each other. You love Rory, and he loves you.”  
“That's exactly the point!” Amy raised her voice and she looked like she was about to start crying again, “I love him and I want the best for him. But he wants children and I obviously can't have any, so he'd be better off with someone else.”  
Clara shook her head. It was true, they had been trying for a baby for a few years now, but from what Amy had told her, the doctors all said she was fine and that it simply hadn't worked out yet.  
“Amy,” she said softly, placing her arm around her friend's shoulder, “I think Rory would rather stay childless with you than have a kid with someone else. And you're still young, there's plenty of time for you left and even if that doesn't work out, you can adopt.”  
“He said that, too,” Amy replied weakly, “But I know he wants children now and not in 10 years. And the adoption process is tricky. Who says they'd even consider us?”  
“Because you two are amazing. You both have stable jobs, you even work from home, you adore each other and you live in this beautiful house in a quiet neighbourhood and you've been trying for years. You _really_ want a child – who _wouldn't_ consider you great parents?”  
Amy sniffed again. “We had a fight today.”  
Clara rolled her eyes. “So what? Fights happen. Every couple fights.”  
_Some more than others_ , she added in her mind and suddenly thought about Alex.  
“I was so sure this time. I was so sure I was pregnant, but when we went to the doctor's office today and they told us it was nothing, I just. . . I lost it. And now Rory is off, spending the rest of the week at his Dad's place.”  
“You can spend the night here, if you like,” Clara suggested, “Trust me, tomorrow it won't look half as bad anymore. And you can call Rory and tell him you're sorry.”  
“You're probably right, but what if it never works out?”  
“It will work out, I promise,” Clara said, applying John's logic to advising a troubled young woman. She didn't know if it was going to work out, but it was what Amy needed to hear right now.  
“Thanks,” Amy said weakly and wiped a tear from her face before changing her tone, “You know what I want to do? I want to go out.”  
“Go out? _Now_?” That was the last thing Clara wanted right now. Or ever.  
“Not now,” she said, “But how about Friday night? We could drag Martha along. Girl's night out, go dancing. I haven't done that in ages.”  
Clara raised an eyebrow at her friend. “Are you sure that's a good idea?”  
“Absolutely,” Amy replied, “The last few weeks have been nothing but work and boredom and waiting rooms and peeing on pregnancy tests. I need to have some fun.”  
“If we must, but I'm not really a fan of clubbing.”  
“It'll be fun,” Amy repeated, “. . . after a few tequila shots.”  
Clara doubted it, but she didn't really have a choice when her friend was crying and insistent. 

She allowed Amy to sleep in her bed under the condition that she wouldn't snore, but as soon as the lights went out and the room became quiet, Clara's thoughts went back to John. Up until today Clara had been so grateful for his friendship, she had loved spending time with him, but now she wasn't so sure anymore if it was a good idea. Maybe she was enjoying his company a little too much. She had even thought about kissing him – in a sober state – which should ring all possible alarm bells in her head. Maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to run to him whenever she was having problems with Alex. Alex, her boyfriend, the man she loved. Clara decided that it was probably better to stay away from John for a while, at least until things with Alex were back to normal. 

 

* * *

 

When John had thought things weren't going well with getting to know his son, he had been so wrong. Things were going terribly.  
He had successfully befriended his son's girlfriend, yes, but he hadn't considered that he would like her _that_ much, _too_ much.  
John groaned as he sank into the pillows of his bed.  
“Well done,” he said to himself, “Well fucking done!”  
He had always known where to find trouble and if not, trouble had had a way of finding him. Without Clara, or if he hurt her or let her down, he would never get close to his son. But if he continued to be around her, he would end up falling in love with Clara.

There had been a moment earlier, before Amy had appeared, when he had thought she had been about to kiss him. Luckily her friend had interrupted them both, because some part of him had wanted to kiss Clara and that could never happen.  
John covered his face in his hands. 25 years in prison. It wasn't a surprise that he was falling for the first woman that was nice to him. He was lonely and Clara was there – that was probably all that there was to it. John simply needed to find someone else before something bad could happen.

 

* * *

 

Clara waited impatiently in front of the headmaster's office, knowing that John was in there, having his job interview for the caretaker's position. She felt a little nervous and she knew she was breaking her vow to stay away from him, but if he indeed got the job, Clara would have to see him anyway and she would have to deal with it. When the door finally opened, John emerged, a look of relief on his face, and carrying the orange work coat.  
“You got the job, I see,” Clara said with a smile.  
John held up the orange coat. “Not quite my colour, but yes, I'm starting in December.”  
“That's good news, right?” she asked carefully. He didn't seem too thrilled.  
“Yes, absolutely,” he replied.  
“You don't seem too excited,” Clara said before she could stop herself.  
John shook his head. “I am. I just. . . I didn't sleep so well last night.”  
“Okay,” she took a deep breath, “Want to come to the canteen with me to grab lunch?”  
“Uhm,” he paused, “I actually have to go. Got a call from an old lady with a broken boiler this morning.”  
“Okay. See you around, I guess?”  
“Yeah, see you,” he said and Clara watched him walk away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your comments :D Oh, you wanted a kiss? Well, looks like you're gonna have to wait for another while . . . sloooooooow buuuuuuuuuuuurn XD


	12. Chapter 12

Clara was in the worst mood possible and she realized it was only about to get worse as she stepped into the club. It was loud, dark and crowded, the air was stifling and too hot even with her short dress. She hated Amy and Martha a little for dragging her here.  
“Come on, Clara,” Martha nudged her gently, “This is much better than sitting at home and sulking. What's the matter?”  
“Alex hasn't called me today,” she replied grumpily, but it was only half the reason why she was in a bad mood. John had been acting really weird in the past few days, which was especially strange because it had started on Tuesday, right after they had spent a great evening together. He had been weird to her after the job interview, claiming it was due to a lack of sleep, but ever since then, whenever she had seen him on the street, he had avoided her. Technically it wasn't a bad thing, since Clara wanted to spend less time with him anyway, but it was still bugging her.  
“Here,” Amy said excitedly, arriving at their table with three shot glasses and a bottle of tequila, “Let's get this ladies' night started!”  
Clara groaned as she was handed her first shot. The last time she had been drunk, she had thought about kissing John – but luckily he wasn't here tonight.  
“So, ladies, what's up?” Martha asked, slamming her glass down on the table.  
Both Clara and Amy rolled their eyes, groaning.  
“That bad, huh? You should both try long distance. Mickey is travelling so often ever since he started teaching new recruits, it's done wonders for our relationship. We never fight anymore. We don't know what about. When he's home, we're just happy to be together.”  
“Well _good for you_ ,” Amy said, pouring everyone another shot, “I'm still not pregnant. Which, right at this moment, is probably a good thing cause I wouldn't be able to drink, but it's been tough. I don't know how much longer we can take this, really.”  
Clara silently downed the tequila, hoping they would continue to talk about themselves and not ask her about her love life, but she had no such luck.  
“What about Alex? Seattle again?” Martha asked.  
Clara held her glass in Amy's direction, demanding another shot. “Yep, still Seattle. We've been quarrelling a bit lately. Nothing major. Just stupid things.”  
“Uh-ooooh,” both Amy and Martha uttered.  
Clara sipped her tequila, but immediately put the glass down, eyeing both of her friends. “What's _that_ supposed to mean?”  
“Fighting over small things might turn into a big thing. Are you sure everything is okay between the two of you?” Amy asked.  
Clara rolled her eyes and quickly emptied her glass. That was why she preferred to talk to John about things like that. Both Amy and Martha had this talent of making her feel even worse when she was already pretty beaten up.  
When Amy had refilled her glass, Clara held it up. “Okay, ladies, if I drink this, you have to promise me to keep me from jumping strange men.”  
Amy giggled. “Yes, Clara, we _know_ what you're like. We've already calculated that risk and look around – mostly women here. And ugly men with really bad skin,” she said as a boy – Clara refused to call him a man when he was still almost a child – passed them and he looked as if he mother still dressed him and prepared his lunch.  
“Okay, good point,” Clara replied, “But seriously. Watch me. Last time I drank I almost kissed the new neighbour.”  
Oh dear, she shouldn't have said that, Clara realized it as soon as the words left her mouth.  
“Which one?” Martha asked absent-mindedly before drinking again.  
Clara frowned. “How many new neighbours do we have?! John Smith of course!”  
“ _The old guy?!_ ” Amy asked, gasping in shock, “I saw you two on Monday. Was that when?”  
“Nooooo,” Clara replied, “And he's not old. He's just. . . old _er_. You guys have met him. He's nice and not bad looking. But no worries. I'm with Alex and I won't get that idea again.”  
Clara downed her drink and suddenly noticed her two friends giggling.  
“ _What?_ ”  
“You _fancy_ him,” Martha sniggered.  
“You have a _crush_ on him,” Amy teased her, a mocking grin on her face.  
“Shut up,” Clara said and hoped it would be too dark in here for her friends to see that she was blushing mercilessly, “Now, you mentioned dancing?”  
“One more round,” Amy said, pouring them drinks, before she burst into laughter again, “Clara has a crush on the old neighbour.”  
Suddenly Clara wasn't feeling too well anymore. She wasn't sure if it was the tequila already kicking in, or her bad conscience at the idea that Amy might not be so wrong about that after all.  
“Don't worry,” Martha said, smiling kindly, “We're just teasing.”

Clara smiled politely in reply before emptying her glass. Then she was dragged off to the dance floor. She really hated this jumping around that Amy and Martha seemed to enjoy so much and suddenly Clara wished that she was back in her dancing lessons. With John. She would give almost anything to be dancing with him right now. Even the alcohol that she was starting to feel coursing through her bloodstream now didn't aid to her having fun. She had no idea for how long they danced, but her feet were already tired and slightly wobbly in those high heels – and the club seemed to grow increasingly warmer, too, making her head burn and swim.  
She turned around, slightly uncoordinated, and spotted Amy, who looked even worse than Clara felt by now.  
“Are you okay?” Clara asked, probably slurring. It was as if her tongue was glued to her mouth.  
“No,” Amy replied, holding her stomach, “I feel sick.”  
Luckily Martha was standing right next to her, preventing Amy from toppling over on the spot.  
“I think we'll have a look at the toilets,” Martha said.  
“Yeah,” Clara replied, “I'm gonna go and get some fresh air.”

Slowly and on unsteady feet Clara staggered towards the exit, noticing that the room was now turning more badly than ever. She needed to get out of this heat, she needed air, she needed John. No, that wasn't really on her list, even though spending time with her friends had definitely made her miss talking to him. All Clara needed was to clear her head. 

 

* * *

 

John hadn't even realized that he had fallen asleep on the sofa when the ringing of his mobile phone woke him up. Still half asleep he reached for the phone.  
“John Smith?” he said sleepily.  
“Heeeeeeeeeey,” a female voice said on the other end, “Ow 'r ye doin'?”  
John needed a moment to figure out what the caller had said and who it was.  
“Clara?” he asked in confusion.  
“Yiiiisss, 'tis me,” she drawled, “Di' I wake ye?”  
“No,” he lied. She sounded very drunk and John was suddenly worried about her. Why was she calling him? “Is everything okay? Are _you_ okay?”  
It took her a moment to reply. “Thiiiink 'm a bit. . . dr-drunk,” she paused, “'m atta club. 'tis terrible.”  
John sat up on his sofa. “Are you alone? Is someone with you?”  
“Amy an' Martha. Amy's sick,” another pause, “'m outside. Cold. Wanna go home.”  
He didn't even hesitate. “Do you want me to pick you up?”  
“Yes,” Clara replied weakly.  
Slowly John rose from the couch and pocketed his wallet and car keys. “Okay, where are you exactly?”  
She slurred something that he didn't quite understand.  
“Clara, I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Where are you?”  
“LSE Students' Union,” she repeated more clearly now.  
“Where is that, do you remember?” He asked, closing the front door behind him.  
“Uhm, we passed a Starbucks.”  
He couldn't help but laugh. “That's the least helpful thing you could have said. Anything else close by?”  
“There's the. . . erm, . . . School for Econ'mics an' Politics. . . stuff,” Clara drawled.  
“Okay, I know where that is,” John said as got into his car, “Do you have your jacket?”  
“'tis inside.”  
“Go get your jacket, it's freezing! If possible, find Amy and Martha and tell them I'm going to pick you up – and them too if they want to, then wait for me outside. Alright?”  
“'kay.”  
“I'll be there as fast as I can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :D And I did mention slow burn, right?


	13. Chapter 13

John already recognized her before he could even see that there was a nightclub close by. Clara was sitting on a bollard, her jacket loosely swung around her shoulders and her shoes in her hand. He pulled the car up right next to her and got out. Her face lit up when she saw him and John found himself smiling back. Clara immediately got to her feet and tumbled in his direction.  
“Hey, party animal,” John greeted her with a smile, placing his hand around her waist for support, “Are you okay?”  
Clara nodded, her head resting against his arm as she leaned on him with all her weight.  
“Couldn't find Amy and Martha?” he asked.  
“No,” Clara replied, “They'll take a taxi.”  
“Alright, let's get you home, lightweight,” John said as he swept her up, Clara uttering a small sound of surprise, and carried her to the passenger door, gently setting her down in the car seat of his van. He tried very hard not to notice how short the hemline of her dress was. Clara, whether she knew or not, was still his daughter in law and he shouldn't be thinking about things like that. John needed to remind himself of that whenever he saw her. He climbed into the driver's seat and threw Clara another glance while she fastened the seat belt.  
“Are you sure you're okay?” he asked again.  
“Amy an' Martha are stupid,” Clara drawled, “An' 'm tired.”  
John laughed. “What makes you say that? Have they said something mean?”  
“Nothin'. 'twas abou' men.”  
“You should send them a message. Tell them you're home and that you're okay. They'll be looking for you,” he said and reached behind his seat, pulling out a water bottle that he handed to Clara, “And you should drink that.”  
“Thanks.”

John started the engine and drove in the direction of home, but noticed that the traffic was growing heavier.  
“Is there an event in the city that has just ended or what?” he asked, though Clara didn't reply. Instead she typed something into her phone. When she was done, she rested her head against his shoulder.  
“Thanks for pickin' me up,” she said earnestly.  
“No problem at all. If you get sick, just yell and I'll pull up, okay?”  
He felt her nod against his shoulder.  
“Anything else I can do? Are you hungry? It's late but I'm sure we can find a McDonald's.”  
“Sounds nice,” Clara replied.  
“Okay. Try to sleep. I'll wake you when we get there.”

For a moment he thought that she had already fallen asleep when Clara suddenly spoke again. “You're perfect,” she said against the fabric of his jacket.  
“What?” John asked, laughing shyly.  
“Y'are. I dunno what they've agains' you. I don' care.”  
“You talked about me? With Amy and Martha?” John knew that he shouldn't ask. Clara was drunk and she would probably tell him things that she would never tell him if she was sober.  
“They said y're _old_ ,” Clara slurred, “I don' think y're _old_. And 'tis not true. I don' have a crush on you. I'm with _Alex_. I jus' like you.”  
Clara lifted her head and stared right at him, her eyes slightly unfocused. For a moment he looked back.  
“I though 'bout kissin' ye, ye know?”  
John quickly turned his eyes back on the road. “You can't kiss me, Clara,” he said sharply, “That would be very inappropriate.”  
Immediately Clara slumped back down, head against his arm and she sighed.  
“Ye can skip McDonald's. Jus' take 'm home.”

John was just about to reply when suddenly Clara's mobile phone started ringing and she answered it as fast as she could.  
“I'm okay,” she said into the phone, “Sorry. Couldn' find ye. . . No, almos' home. See ya.”  
“Your friends?” he asked.  
“Yeah, jus' checkin' in. All good.”

They drove home in silence, Clara's head nestled against his shoulder the entire time, though whether she was asleep or not, John couldn't tell. At some point he reached behind his seat and pulled out a jacket, covering Clara's legs to which she murmured a thank you before falling silent again.  
It was two in the morning when he finally parked his van in the driveway and Clara stirred next to him, grabbing her shoes and pushing away his jacket.  
“Did you sleep a little?” John asked quietly.  
“Not really,” Clara replied, looking at him. Her eyes were red and she looked utterly tired, “I hate clubbing, did I mention that?”  
“Come on, then, let's get you to bed.”  
Clara held his arm as they made their way across the street, although John had the impression that she could walk fine on her own now that she had sobered up a little. Also, she complained about being hungry.  
“I told you we could stop for food!”  
“Yeah, well, we didn't,” Clara said as she stepped into the house, “But I've got everything for sandwiches here. Want one?”  
John had to admit that he was quite hungry as well, having skipped dinner earlier, so he agreed and followed her inside the kitchen where Clara immediately set out to prepare the food.  
“Let me,” he said gently, taking the sliced bread from her hands, “How about you make us some coffee?”  
As he prepared two large sandwiches, he watched Clara retrieve two capsules from a drawer and place one of them in an oddly looking coffee maker.  
“I've never tried coffee made from capsules. Is it any good?”  
She gave a slight shrug. “I like it. Alex hates it. But it's faster than regular coffee.”

Five minutes later they were both sitting at the kitchen table, sipping their hot beverages and eating their sandwiches in silence. John watched her and what she had said earlier weighed heavy on his mind. Yes, Clara had been drunk and she probably hadn't meant it, but he still felt like it was something that needed to be addressed for both their sakes.  
“Clara,” he began, “We're sort of friends, right?”  
She looked up at him, her beautiful eyes much clearer than now than they had been earlier. She laughed a little nervously. “Not just sort of, I hope. But yeah, we're friends, why?”  
He hated this conversation already, but he needed to get this off his chest. “I really like you and I enjoy the time we spend together. I like the thing we have, that we help each other out and that we can just have fun together.”  
Clara furrowed her brows slightly. “So do I, but why are you saying that? Why now?”  
John looked down at his sandwich, trying to gather his thoughts, thinking about how to begin. “What you said earlier,” he paused, “There can't be anything else between us than that.”  
He looked up at her, looked right into her face but he couldn't read any kind of emotion from it.  
“I know,” she replied immediately, “I know that. Forget what I said earlier, it was silly.”  
“Because you have Alex and I am old enough to be your father. It just wouldn't be right, you know?” he added quickly. John couldn't bring himself to lie to her and tell her that some part of him wouldn't want to.  
“I know,” Clara reassured him, “And don't worry. It didn't even have anything to do with you, really. It's just that when I drink,” she added nervously, “I get the urge to kiss the nearest male I see, which is usually Alex, but when I was at your place, you know, the night with the scotch, I was briefly thinking about it. I told Amy and Martha and they laughed at me. It was silly. And it meant nothing at all, believe me. We're friends. And I like it that way.”  
John let out a deep sigh. “Good,” he finally said, “I'm relieved. Because I really do like you and I'd like us to remain friends.”  
Clara nodded, smiling at him. “And while we're on the topic. You are a great friend. Thanks for picking me up tonight.”  
“No problem,” he pointed at her empty plate, “And now off to bed with you.”  
He rose from his chair and Clara followed his example.  
“Can I hug you goodbye though?” she asked with a smirk, “It's what friends do.”  
John rolled his eyes at her but couldn't hide the smile on his face for long. “Yeah, I'm kind of getting used to that.”  
A few seconds later Clara's arms were swung around him and her face was nuzzled against his chest. He closed his arms around her back, one of his hands wandering to her head, gently keeping it in place.  
“Admit it, you like the hugs now,” she said against the fabric of his shirt and he could hear the amusement in her voice.  
“Yes,” he said, “Yes, I do.”  
Before he could stop himself, John bent down and placed a kiss on Clara's forehead before stepping out of their embrace.  
“There,” he said, “That's all the kissing you will get.”  
Clara gave him a tired smile that was at the same time so full of gratitude.  
“Good night, John,” she whispered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments :) And let the slow buuuuuuuuurn :D


	14. Chapter 14

When Clara woke up she felt the distinct weight of an arm around her waist – and a throbbing headache. In panic she searched last night's memories for a clue as to who was lying next to her when she heard Alex' voice. For a brief moment she had hoped that it would be somebody else's arm holding her.  
“Morning, my sweet, little party girl,” he whispered into her ear.  
Immediately she turned around in his embrace, looking at him. “Alex. . . but. . . you weren't supposed to come back until tomorrow.”  
He shrugged. “Wrapped the interviews early, flew back and got here an hour ago. I've missed you,” he said before he kissed her.  
“How did you know I've been partying?” Clara asked warily when he pulled away.  
“Dress and high heels on the floor, remains of what looks like a late night snack in the kitchen and not to mention,” he smiled and wiped away something from under her eyes, “Panda eyes. Did you have a good time without me?”  
“I hate clubbing. And my head is exploding,” Clara muttered grumpily. She really wasn't feeling too well and the thoughts of what had happened last night were slowly returning to her. She just couldn't believe she had told John about wanting to kiss him. Thank God she had come to her senses later after the effects of the tequila had worn off a little.  
“Well,” Alex replied with a smirk, “I know a nice cure for headaches. The best there is. And I remembered to buy the condoms this time.”  
She let out a tired groan. “Can you cure my headache after I've slept for another hour?”  
Alex shuffled closer to her, pulling her body against his. “Honey, I've missed you so much. A whole week without you, that was torture.”  
Clara pushed away from him and rolled on her back, lifting her hands in a surrendering gesture. “Fine,” she spat, “But make it quick so I can go back to sleep.”  
Immediately he sat up in bed next to her, a stern expression on his face. “Clara, why are you being like that?”  
“Because I'm tired and I'm sore and if you wanna do it, I want to get it over with. So are you gonna fuck me or what?” Clara asked angrily.  
“Not when you're being like that,” Alex said simply.  
Now Clara struggled into a sitting position as well, looking at him. “I mean it, Alex. Make it quick and make it good.”  
Clara watched him as he rubbed his face with his hands before he came to look at her again. “Clara, what is happening to us?” he asked, “Ever since we moved here things have been rocky, but it's never been as bad as this.”  
“Why are you saying that?”  
“Because it's the truth,” he replied, “I think this house, moving here, it was a mistake. Maybe we should move somewhere else, make a fresh start, somewhere we both want to be.”  
“Well, tough luck, because I like it here now,” Clara replied brusquely.  
“Then what is it that bothers you so much?” Alex asked desperately, “I want to fix it, but I don't know what it is that you want fixed.”  
Clara took a deep breath. She really wasn't in the mood for this conversation, but Alex was right. He couldn't fix it unless he knew what was going on. She had told John, telling Alex wouldn't be so bad.  
“I'm scared,” Clara finally admitted.  
“Scared?” Alex raised his eyebrows, “Of me?”  
“No, not you. Of us,” she paused, “Ever since we moved out of our flat things have been getting more and more serious and the direction we're headed as a couple seems so clear.”  
“Clara, we've been together for over five years. Things have been serious for quite some time.”  
“Yes, but it never felt like it. This house just seems like a stepping stone to marriage and kids and I'm not ready for that.”  
Alex inhaled sharply, but his tone remained soft. “It was never meant as such. I just thought that with my new job we could afford it and that it would be nice not to live in that closet of a flat anymore. I know that you like your freedom and I'm sorry if I ever gave you the impression that I was pushing you into things you don't want.”  
Clara only nodded.  
“That being said, you know I want to get married and have children some day. But you and I, we will pick that day together. And if you want to wait another 10 years, that's fine.”  
“But what if I never want those things?”  
He sighed and lifted his hand to cup her cheek. “Then I'll be fine just growing old with you and living in sin until the day I die.”  
Clara smiled reluctantly. She was glad to have gotten this off her chest, although she felt like this wouldn't be their last fight.

 

* * *

 

After a long shower Clara headed downstairs to find that Alex had already prepared breakfast and also to find Amy sitting in the kitchen in front of a huge mug of coffee. She and Alex were laughing and Clara prayed to God that it wasn't about what she had told her friends last night.  
“Hey,” she greeted Amy warily, “What are you doing here? Why aren't you at home, tending to your hangover?”  
“I just wanted to see if you got home alright,” Amy replied. She looked way too happy for the amount of tequila they had both consumed the night before.  
Alex exchanged looks with both of them. “So the second plate was Martha's. I'd have thought it was you, Amy.”  
“What?” Amy asked in confusion, “No, Martha and I went home together. Clara was just gone from the club all of a sudden. We were worried.”  
“I called you on my way home,” Clara said and went over to the counter, busying herself with the coffee maker, “I told you I was fine.”  
“If you went home alone,” Alex began and Clara hoped he wouldn't finish his question, “Then why were there two cups and plates?”  
It seemed as if she was out of luck today.  
“How did you get home so quickly anyway? We waited almost two hours for our taxi because of some event in the city.”  
“Because I didn't call a taxi, I called John,” she said, trying to sound matter-of-factly as she grabbed her mug and went to sit on the table next to them.  
“John?” Alex asked immediately, “Our _neighbour_ John? Why on earth would you call _him_?”  
Clara took a sip from her coffee, stalling. She had never told Alex anything about John at all. Amy seemed to have sensed the tension because she was slowly rising from her chair.  
“I think I better get going,” she said, “Rory will be home soon. He forgot his keys. Don't want to make him wait in front of the house.”

As soon as her friend had left however, Alex' attention was immediately back on the last question.  
“So, want to explain to me why you called our neighbour to pick you up from a night out with your friends?” he asked, the tone of his voice sharp, but not angry. He seemed curious more than anything.  
“Because John and I are friends,” Clara said simply.  
“Since _when_?”  
“I guess since the beginning. He's really nice. He went with me to the dance lesson on Monday, I actually learned a few things,” she explained, sipping her coffee.  
Alex wrinkled his forehead. “You took _him_? Why? I thought you'd take Amy or Martha or anyone, I didn't think you'd take our middle aged neighbour.”  
“I took him because he can actually dance. And I told you – we are friends.”  
“Should I be worried?” he asked out of the blue and Clara only snorted in reply, “Don't you tell me that's a silly question. You're obviously spending quite some time with another man and you never told me about that. I have the right to ask.”  
He did. And maybe he should actually be worried. But Clara wasn't going to tell him that, not after John had made it so very clear the previous night that there would never be anything between them.  
“There is nothing to worry about,” Clara reassured him, “Like I said, we're friends. That's it.”  
“May I say that I still think it's odd? What could you possibly have in common with him?”  
Clara didn't know how to answer that one. Maybe it was because they both didn't really seem to fit in. John because he had spent 25 years in prison and was still recovering from that, and Clara because she was a free spirit, living a life of work and household things among married people who wanted nothing more than children and a nice front lawn.  
“Maybe you should get to know him better,” Clara suggested, “Spend some time with him.”  
Alex scoffed.  
“Hey, you wanted to lay new bathroom tiles, right? John's pretty good with that sort of thing. I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping.”  
“Yeah,” he sighed, “Maybe that's not such a bad idea. He did seem nice at the party.”  
“Oh, and before you accuse me of holding back information again. John had a job interview at my school this week. He's starting as caretaker in December.”  
Alex raised an eyebrow. “So you'll be neighbours, friends _and_ colleagues?”  
“Yes?” she said sheepishly.  
He groaned. “I don't know, Clara. This just seems fishy to me. He moved here when? Two months ago? And suddenly he's your pal and working at your school? You know I'm not the jealous type, but this guy is getting a little too close to my girlfriend for my taste.”  
“I said you had nothing to worry about! Why won't you believe me?” Clara said angrily, raising her voice.  
“ _You_ I believe. It's _him_ I don't trust. You're a beautiful, young woman, he seems to be single. Can't blame me for being suspicious because I actually _know_ how men are.”

Clara jumped up from her chair. “Well, good. Then you know that he's gonna fuck me against the wall when I go over there now and get my phone, which I think I left in his car last night. Must have dropped it when he was eating me out.”  
“Clara-” he said, but she never heard the rest when she slammed the front door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for your comments. And don't worry. Slow burn is going to end soon. . .ish :D But I'm not saying when.


	15. Chapter 15

John opened the door in only his shirt and his underpants and Clara could tell by his hair that he hadn't taken a look into the mirror yet.  
“Sorry, did I wake you?” she asked carefully.  
“No,” he replied, running his hand through his hair, leaving it even messier than it had been before, “I was just on my way to make coffee. Is everything alright?”  
“Everything's fine. Almost. I think I left my phone in your car last night.”  
John nodded. “Give me a moment to get dressed,” he said and held the door open for her to follow him inside.  
When he had vanished behind his bedroom door, Clara leaned against the wall, thinking of how she was going to break to him that he had to spend some time with Alex to ease his mind.  
“Listen, John,” she began.  
“Yeah?” he called from inside the bedroom.  
“Alex wants to renovate our bathroom and I suggested that maybe you could help him.”  
A moment later John, now wearing jeans and a warm jumper, emerged from the other room again. He looked slightly confused, or still tired, Clara couldn't tell.  
“He wants to make sure I don't touch you,” he said boldly.  
“What makes you say that?” Clara asked, although he wasn't wrong.  
John shrugged. “I'd be surprised if he just took the fact that we're friends lightly. It's okay, Clara, you don't have to protect me. I can handle it. And I'd be happy to help with the bathroom.”  
She gave him a weak smile. “Good. I'll tell Alex you said yes.”  
As they made their way back to the front door, Clara noticed the newspaper articles on the coffee table that she had printed out for him.  
“Any luck with the memories?” Clara asked, pointing in the direction of the articles.  
“Not really. Reading these I-” he paused, “It reads as though it happened to another person and not me.”  
“Have you ever been to where it happened again?”  
John shook his head. “No, I couldn't. After prison I was basically over it. I just wanted to move on.”  
“What happened?” Clara wanted to know.  
John's lips curled into a smile. “ _You_ happened.”  
Clara opened her mouth to speak, but John interrupted her before she had a chance. “It's a good thing though, I should try to remember. Now come on, let's get your phone.”

 

When Clara stepped back into her own kitchen, Alex was still sitting where she had left him, slowly sipping his coffee.  
“Are we done fighting for today?” she asked.  
Alex turned around to look at her. “What did he say?”  
Clara shrugged. “He said he's coming over after breakfast to have a look at the bathroom.”  
Alex only nodded. She could feel that he still wasn't entirely okay, but she had an idea that might lighten his mood.  
“I've had an idea,” Clara began as she slid into the chair next to him, “You're right. John is single.”  
He raised his eyebrows. “So?”  
“How about we try to change that?” Clara suggested, biting her lip.  
“A set up?” Alex groaned, “Clara, those kind of things never end well.”  
“Don't be so pessimistic. John's a nice guy. I'm sure there is a woman out there who would take him.”  
“Do you have anyone specific in mind?” Alex asked, obviously knowing that Clara would get her way no matter what.  
“I thought maybe you-”  
“And it gets even worse,” Alex complained, but then he fell silent for a moment, “Okay, I might know someone, but-”  
“Who?” Clara asked excitedly.  
Alex groaned in annoyance. “Someone from work. Her name is Missy, she is in her late 40s I think, recently divorced and I overheard her talking with another colleague at work that she said she is on the lookout for someone. She's also from Glasgow.”  
“That sounds perfect,” Clara said, but her voice had lost some of its excitement. Missy indeed sounded perfect for John.  
“ _But_ ,” Alex stressed, “This John better be nice to her because Missy is not someone you should underestimate. If they don't like each other, that's fine, but if he is rude to her or anything else happens, all hell will break loose at work.”  
“Don't worry,” Clara said, “He'll be nice. Invite her to our party before Christmas. That way it won't seem so forced.”

 

* * *

 

John grabbed his toolbox and closed the front door behind him, taking a deep breath. He was about to spend time with his son, which should have been a good thing if it hadn't been because his son was worried he might steal his girlfriend. Even though Clara had reassured him that she hadn't meant what she had said about kissing him, it didn't change his own growing feelings for her. She was beautiful and witty and had an energetic curiosity about her that simply mesmerized him. And she was also his son's girlfriend. And that was why it could never happen.  
When he rang the door bell, it was Clara who answered.  
“Hey John,” she smiled at him nervously, “Come on in. Alex is already in the bathroom.”  
“Good,” he said, nodding.  
“Oh, before I forget this – again – we're hosting a White Elephant Gift party the last Friday before Christmas. Save the date because you are invited.”  
“That's still over a month away, but yeah, I will.”  
“And it's a theme party,” Clara added, “So dressing accordingly is mandatory.”  
John raised his eyebrows. “What kind of theme? Nothing silly, I hope?”  
“Don't worry. 40s. Simple and elegant will do.”  
“Okay,” John said, hoping that his nervousness didn't show too much, “I better have a look at the bathroom now.”

Alex was already waiting for him in the bathroom and John looked around. He had seen it before, but he wasn't sure if bringing that up would help him much under the circumstances.  
“Clara says you're good at this,” Alex said without greeting him first. His voice was ice cold. “Funny that she mentioned that when she wasn't so very talkative about the rest.”  
He turned around to look at John, who at first wasn't sure what to reply. But at least Alex didn't beat around the bush although John wasn't really prepared for this open hostility.  
“Clara wants us to spend time together,” Alex continued, “Forgive me, but I think that's a stupid idea. You're a little too close to my girlfriend for my taste and she kept that from me for quite some time, so I'm not exactly keen to be your pal.”  
“I'm guessing you don't want help with the bathroom either,” John replied coldly.  
“You're right.”  
“What is it that you want? Do you want to punch me in the face?” he asked, pointing in the direction of his chin, “If that makes you happy, go ahead.”  
Alex snorted. “I want you to stay away from my girl. It's as simple as that. Things aren't going so well at the moment, the last thing we need is a stranger butting in.”  
“I know that,” he replied earnestly, “Clara told me you're having a bit of a rough patch. I told her to talk to you about it. I'm not here to steal your girlfriend, Alex, I think you two are a nice couple and that you should work on your issues. I'm just trying to be a good neighbour and friend.”  
“Then do something neighbourly and stay away from Clara,” Alex said, his voice low and calm, but John could still hear the anger in it.  
A few seconds later steps could be heard and Clara appeared in the bathroom door way.  
“Hey, how's it going?” she asked cheerfully.  
“Good,” Alex replied immediately before John even had the slightest chance to say anything, “John gave me a few tips and I think it's a bit more work than I want at the moment.”  
“Yes,” John agreed, not knowing what else to tell Clara, “Lots of work. I should get going, seeing as the renovation is postponed.”  
“Uhm, okay,” Clara replied, the confusion audible in her voice, “Wait, I'll see you to the door.”  
“I'll find the way out, thanks,” John said and turned around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :)


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And because I am nice and you are impatient and I am ahead with my writing - have a second chapter for the day. I know you want it ;)

Clara heard the door bell ring as she sat the fondue set down on the dinner table. She quickly straightened her dress, a dark green one that she had bought specifically for the party, and went to open the door.  
“Wow,” Clara uttered as she spotted John.  
“Wow? Is that the new hello?” he chuckled.  
She laughed nervously. “No, just a way of saying that your costume is very well chosen.”  
And it was indeed. John was wearing a dark brown three piece suit with a simple shirt and tie, his hair was neatly combed for once and his eyes were framed by a pair of glasses. He looked positively handsome tonight. _Too handsome_ , she thought when she remembered that Missy was also coming to the party.  
“Where's everyone else?” John asked as he stepped inside the house and set his White Elephant gift down on a table where he could already spot two other wrapped gifts, “Where's Alex?”  
“Alex dropped the crate of beer that was meant for the party. He's out to buy a new one. And I invited you a bit earlier so I could give you this,” Clara said and walked over to one of the cupboards. She opened a drawer, retrieved a small envelope and handed it to John.  
He took it reluctantly. “What is that?”  
“It's your Christmas present,” Clara beamed at him.  
John looked at her. “You didn't have to give me a present. I didn't get you one.”  
“Open it. You may not like it at all.”  
Clara watched him tear up the envelope and the confusion on his face only grew when he saw the content.  
“A train ticket to Glasgow for February?” he asked, looking at her.  
“Two train tickets,” Clara corrected him.  
“Okay,” John took a deep breath, wrinkling his forehead, “Two train tickets to Glasgow for February?”  
Clara hesitated for a moment. “I thought it would be a good idea if you went back to the bar, that maybe it would bring back some memories. And I thought you might not want to go on your own, so I bought a ticket for myself as well.”  
“That is. . .”  
“Presumptuous? Silly? A bad idea?” Clara asked carefully, but when she looked at John she saw that he was smiling.  
“A very lovely gesture, thank you,” he said and bent down to place a small peck on her cheek before he slid the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket, “And even if your plan doesn't work out and I don't remember, at least I get to show you Glasgow. The city is as ugly as they come and you will hate it.”  
Clara laughed. “I doubt that I'll hate it.”  
“But Clara,” John paused, “How are you gonna explain that to Alex?”  
The smile faded from her lips and Clara only shrugged. “I thought not at all. It's during the winter break and it's the weekend Alex always visits his mother for her birthday. He won't even know I'm gone.”  
“Clara-”  
“No,” she interrupted him, “Let that be my problem. I haven't yet found a hotel, but there's still time until February.”  
“That won't be necessary. We can stay at my sister's place. I just need to give her a call and I'm sure we can pop in anytime.”  
“Great,” the smile was back on her face, “I'd love to meet your sister.”

Again the door bell rang and when Clara opened it, she found Amy, Rory, Martha and Mickey standing in front of it, all of them all dressed up and ready for their theme party. They left their presents on the table and walked inside, greeting each other and saying hello. A short while later the front door opened again and Alex stepped inside, carrying a crate of beer, and he was followed by a woman who could only be Missy.  
Clara's heart sank as soon as she saw her. Missy was nothing if not sexy, her red, tight dress and the exaggerated cleavage practically screaming for attention. And she was tall, with long legs Clara could only dream about. She immediately decided that she hated her. Unfortunately for Clara, Missy was in on the planned set up, as it was the reason she had agreed to come to their party. She quickly glanced at John, who was utterly clueless as to what was going to happen. Well, she was just going to have to suck it up. With any luck John wouldn't fancy her at all, so Clara took a deep breath and went to say hello.  
“You must be Missy,” Clara said as politely as she could manage and extended her hand.  
The woman looked down at her and smiled. God, those cheekbones were terrifyingly sharp. “That's right,” Missy replied, “And I assume you are Alex' girlfriend Clara?”  
She swallowed and nodded before she watched Missy join the other guests in the living room. Oh, this was going to be a terrible party.  
“Where did you find _that_?” Clara asked angrily, keeping her voice low.  
“What are you talking about, honey?” Alex looked at her in confusion.  
“Missy,” Clara spat, “She looks like she belongs on the cover of an adult magazine. What were you thinking?”  
Alex laughed. “Clara, she looks perfectly fine. Please, be nice to her.”  
“Alright,” Clara said grumpily, but her good intention went out of the window as soon as she stepped into the living room and saw that John and Missy were already talking and, even worse, laughing. And did she just touch his arm? God, Clara wanted to murder that woman. The party had started 10 minutes ago and Missy already had her eyes on the prize.  
Clara took a deep breath and walked up to the both of them. “John,” she began, “I think the kitchen tap is loose. Could you maybe have a quick look at it?”  
“Uhm,” he spluttered, exchanging looks between her and Missy, “Sure.”  
She practically dragged him into the kitchen and closed the door behind her.  
“John, I am so, so, so sorry,” Clara said hastily, “I should've warned you.”  
John let out a short laugh. “Warn me? About what?”  
“Missy is here because Alex and I thought it would be a good idea to set you up,” she blurted out, “I know, it's stupid and I'm so sorry. I didn't know who Alex was going to invite and-”  
“Clara,” John smiled at her, “It's fine.”  
Her eyes widened in shock. She must have heard him wrong. “ _What?_ ”  
“Yes,” he reassured her happily, “Missy is nice. I didn't know there were so many Glaswegians in London. It was a very sweet idea, Clara. Don't worry, I'm not mad.”  
“You're not?”  
“Not in the slightest. Now, I'm guessing the tap was just an excuse to talk to me and it's actually working perfectly fine?” John raised an eyebrow.  
“Yes,” Clara replied, beaten, “Let's go back to the others.”

Back in the living room, Clara watched as John immediately joined Missy at the dinner table again and she sat down in her own chair next to Alex, but her eyes remained on the two Scots who seemed to get along devastatingly well. Missy was receiving all the smiles and the laughter that were usually reserved for her and Clara found her stomach twisting into a tight knot. If Missy managed to turn his head, it would be the end of her friendship to John. A woman like her would never allow any competition close to him, so Clara knew that she couldn't let that happen.  
She watched them scornfully all throughout dinner and not even the White Elephant gift exchange with its ridiculous gifts afterwards could lighten her mood. All she could think about was John and how much Clara wished she could just throw Missy out of a window. The party guests began to scatter across the living room and a short while later Clara found herself next to the stereo with Amy, who thoroughly enjoyed the music Clara had picked for the evening.  
“What's wrong with you tonight, Clara?” Amy asked all of a sudden.  
“What?” Clara looked away from John for a moment and focused on her friend, “I don't know what you're talking about.”  
“Yes, you do. You are grumpy, it would make even that silly cat jealous of you.”  
Another look at John only fuelled the anger inside of her as he was now sitting on the sofa – next to Missy. And Missy's hand had found its way to his knee. Clara decided that this would come to an end right now.  
“Excuse me for a moment,” she said to Amy and walked over to the sofa. In one swift move she let herself fall down on the couch to sit between John and Missy.  
“So, what's good?” Clara asked, turning her head towards Missy, “That is a really lovely dress, Missy.”  
The woman looked confused at the sudden interruption, but quickly put on a smile. “Thank you, Clara. Your dress is very nice, too.”  
“I really hope I'll be as brave as you to wear something like that when I'm your age,” Clara said, a laugh behind her words. She turned around to John, waiting for his approval, but he only raised his eyebrows at her. Missy cleared her throat.  
“I think I'm going to get a drink,” John announced, “Can I get you one as well, Missy?”  
“Yes,” she replied, rising from the sofa, “Let's get something to drink.”

But Clara wasn't alone for very long as Alex soon joined her on the couch and he looked slightly angry.  
“What the hell was _that_?” he asked sharply in a hushed voice.  
“Nothing,” Clara shrugged, “Just stating the obvious.”  
“I told you to be nice to Missy. She has been at the company for a very long time and she knows everyone. If this evening ends badly everyone at work will know by noon on Monday, so please, keep your jealousy at bay. If you can't do it to spare my feelings, then at least do it for the peace at the office.”  
“I'm not jealous,” Clara replied immediately, a bit more loudly that she had intended.  
“Oh yes, you are. And I'm trying very hard not to take it personally,” Alex said angrily and left her alone on the sofa.  
Clara sighed. Yes, maybe she actually was jealous. She had feelings for John, even though she couldn't really determine what kind of feelings and seeing him with Missy was upsetting her deeply. She took a deep breath, rising from the sofa. She would apologize to Missy. Alex was right, she should be nicer, but when she turned around and saw the two of them again, talking and laughing, probably about inside jokes only Glaswegians knew, Clara felt the anger rise up in her again.  
“Clara, don't,” she suddenly heard Amy's voice behind her.  
She shot around and looked at her friend. “ _What?_ ” Clara asked angrily.  
“I know that look,” Amy said, “And trust me, whatever you want to say or do, don't. Just leave it.”  
“I just wanted to apologize to Missy. That's all,” Clara shrugged.  
Amy eyed her suspiciously, but Clara wasn't going to stick around and hear the rest of her friend's sermon. Quickly she approached John and Missy.  
“I want to apologize,” Clara said brusquely and she watched Missy raise her eyebrows, “That remark about your age was uncalled for and I'm sorry.”  
John looked slightly relieved, Missy waited for an agonizingly long time and finally said: “Alright. Apology accepted.”  
Clara smiled. “You do look good for your age, even though you're not fooling anyone with those cheekbones. If I ever need something done, the guy who did those would be the man to turn to.”  
“Clara!” John almost cried out in horror.  
Missy set her glass down on the nearest table. “Okay, that's it. I'm leaving. I didn't come here to be insulted.”  
Unfortunately Alex appeared next to them and a look around proved that everyone was staring in their direction.  
“What's the matter?” Alex asked.  
“Your girlfriend,” Missy spat, “is a fucking lunatic. And I'm leaving. I'm sorry, John, you are nice, but this party definitely is not.”  
“If you like we can finish this conversation at my place,” John suggested, shrugging.  
Clara watched in horror as Missy appeared to be nodding and took his arm to walk away. What happened after that wasn't planned, Clara hadn't wanted to do it, but the words escaped her mouth before she could stop herself.  
“By the way, John went to prison for murder.”

" _Clara!_ ” both John and Alex yelled her name at the same time before the room grew awkwardly quiet. Clara could feel the looks of everyone on her and she shuffled her feet nervously.  
Missy immediately let go of John's arm. “That's it,” she said angrily, “I am leaving and I'm leaving alone.”  
She stormed out of the house before anyone even had the chance to stop her. Alex turned to look at Clara furiously, but for the moment he seemed too angry to even speak.  
“Clara, can I talk to you alone for a moment?” John asked and he didn't sound too happy either. 

She nodded and followed John out of the house into the cool night air, wishing she had brought a jacket as she closed the door behind her. Clara felt sorry all of a sudden. She hadn't meant to expose John's secret, but at that moment it had been the only thing she could think of to get Missy to leave him alone.  
“Clara, what the hell?” John asked loudly, obviously desperate to understand what had happened, “What were you thinking? Missy was perfectly nice and you ruined that! I don't know what devil possessed you to act like that but-”  
Clara couldn't stand listening to him any longer. She just wanted him to stop talking and she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to kiss him so badly that for a moment she didn't care about anything else. Clara grabbed the lapels of his jacket, catching him by surprise as she pulled him down and crashed their lips together.


	17. Chapter 17

John found it hard to process what was happening, his brain having momentarily given up to function properly when Clara's mouth was pressed against his own. His stomach was doing somersaults and his body refused any command. John found himself parting his lips, making way for her tongue as his hands reached for the back of her head to pull her closer. He was kissing her, _actually_ kissing her and he hadn't even known how much he had wanted to do that. Clara's lips were so soft, her breath so hot against his own and while his mind screamed for him to stop, John couldn't bring himself to do it. He just wanted to spend hours kissing Clara.  
Finally reason won over and John gently pushed her away. He almost regretted it when he looked at her, sweet Clara with her puppy dog eyes and her cute, little nose and her lips that were going to haunt him from now on until eternity. Why must he want her so badly?  
John cleared his throat. “Clara,” the words came out weak and hoarse, “You can't kiss me when I'm mad at you.”  
“Shut up,” Clara ordered him breathlessly and before he knew what was happening, her mouth was back on his own, kissing him fiercely. John thought that he was prepared this time, that it would be easier to stop her, but Clara was doing a really good job at kissing away any remaining sanity.  
He stumbled back until the wall blocked any possible escape route and Clara pressed herself against him, her lips never leaving his for a single moment and John cursed his own body for reacting to her the way it did, praying that she wouldn't notice. He would drown in her if he could. Eventually Clara broke the kiss, gasping for air and slowly stepped away from him. John needed a moment to gather his thoughts and apparently, so did Clara.  
“Clara-,” he began when he found a voice to speak.  
“Please, don't say it,” she interrupted him again, “I'm sorry. For telling everyone.”  
John didn't reply. He had no idea what to say to her. Not after that kiss. All he felt was the rising urge to repeat it and it took all of his strength not to act on it.  
“Are you very mad?” Clara asked in a low voice.  
“Confused, mostly,” he couldn't help but laugh, “I was angry and now I'm just. . . Why on earth did you kiss me? I thought we had an agreement.”  
Clara shrugged and took a step closer. “I just wanted to,” she said simply, “And now I don't really want to stop.”  
“No,” John said immediately, stepping out of the way, “Stop that right now! It's really confusing me. I should just go.”  
Clara stared at him through those impossible eyes. Yes, that was the word. Impossible.  
“Stop looking at me like that,” he said, his voice desperate. John had been doing so well, suppressing his feelings for her, waiting for them to finally go away and now he couldn't even look at her without wanting to kiss her again. She was everything he should not want but did and it had never been as bad as it was right now.  
John inhaled sharply. “I should go home. And you should go back inside. Your guests are waiting. We'll talk another time when I can think clearly again.”  
He waited for Clara to nod in reply before he turned around and slowly walked back to his own house, the taste of her still clinging on his lips like a curse.

 

* * *

 

When Clara stepped back into the house, breathing in deeply, she fell back against the door. This evening had gone anything but according to plan. She knew that all of her friends and Alex were still waiting in the living room with no idea of what had just happened outside of the house. What had even happened? Of course, Clara had kissed him, but she still refused to believe it was because she was attracted to John. Had he even wanted to kiss her? Had she just ruined their friendship for good?  
No, this was not the time to be thinking about it. She took a deep breath and stepped into the living room where all eyes were immediately on her, judging her. Clara thought that Rory was the only one who looked slightly amused, but he would never dare to say anything in her defence while Amy was around. The rest of them just looked shocked.  
“I'm sorry,” she said earnestly, to all of them, but especially to Alex.  
None of her friends replied. The only person who reaction was Alex – by leaving the room without saying a word.  
“Well, party's over,” Clara said brusquely, “You can all go home now and judge me from there.”  
Slowly they started to rise from their seats and gather their things. It was Amy who stopped next to her and to Clara's relief she was smiling kindly.  
“Hey, if you want to talk about John or Alex, just come by, okay? I promise I won't judge,” she said.  
Clara nodded and waited until everyone had left before she went to look for Alex. Their bedroom was empty, but eventually she found him in the guest bedroom where he was making the bed.  
“I should be the one to sleep in here. I'm the one who screwed up,” Clara said, keeping her voice low. She felt bad for what had happened and she knew how important it had been to Alex that she was nice to Missy. And not to mention the kiss with John.  
Alex remained silent and continued to straighten out the duvet.  
“Please say something,” she begged him.  
He turned around, looking at her furiously. “I don't want to,” Alex said coldly, “I don't want to say something that I'm going to regret. And I don't give a damn who sleeps in the guest room as long as I don't have to look at you.”  
The words cut deeply and what hurt her the most was that he wasn't even trying to settle their argument. But she didn't want to give up just yet.  
“You were right. I was jealous,” Clara admitted.  
“Clara, I really don't want to do this now. I can't even begin to tell you how angry I am with you at the moment.”  
“But it's not like you think. John is a friend and a woman like Missy would _never_ allow another woman close to him. I was afraid she would ruin our friendship,” Clara explained, even though it wasn't entirely the truth as the kiss had proven.  
“And yet you weren't afraid to ruin our relationship,” Alex began to yell at her, “How do you think it makes me feel when my girlfriend is openly jealous because of another man?”  
“I'm sorry!”  
“Too fucking late for that! And you not only insulted Missy when I specifically told you that she could do a lot of damage at work, you also told her lies and now she thinks I was trying to set her up with a murderer. How do you think that's gonna make me look at work?”  
“It wasn't a lie,” Clara mumbled, looking at her feet. But if Alex hadn't believed it, there was a chance the others hadn't either.  
“Excuse me? I think I heard you wrong!” Alex continued to yell at her, “How long have you known that?!”  
“I don't know,” Clara replied truthfully, shrugging, “Some time in October, I think.”  
“I don't believe this! _You knew_! And you still let me arrange the set up with Missy! I won't even begin to question how you can still be friends with him!”  
“I didn't think it would _matter_ , Alex!”  
Alex raised his hand and pointed at the door. “Out! Get out of the room!”  
“ _What?!_ ”  
“I said get out! I can't even look at you right now!”

Clara slammed the door behind her and ran straight into the bedroom. She threw herself onto the bed and started sobbing immediately. What had she done? Could it really be that she lost her best friend and her boyfriend on the same day? Had she screwed up so badly that it was beyond the point where it could be fixed? She cried for what seemed like hours until her head was hurting and yet she still couldn't stop. Alex had never been so mad at her, he had never yelled at her like that before, he had never refused to sleep in their bed and suddenly she felt like she was a stranger in her own home. Only it wasn't her home, not really, it was his home and Alex was beginning to slip away from her. Clara wished she could be somewhere else, she wished she could be with John, wished that he would take her in his arms and kiss her head and tell her that everything was going to be fine. She wanted to be with him more than she wanted anything else right now. Clara knew that if she went over there right now, he wouldn't turn her away, no matter how angry or confused he was, John would be there for her. But if she did that, if she left the house to be with John right now, she could just as well pack her things because Alex would never forgive that and she still loved him, too, no matter the how much they had been fighting lately. And she began to wonder if maybe it wasn't Alex that was slipping away from her, but Clara slowly slipping away from him.

Clara hadn't heard the alarm go off. Instead she was woken by Alex who walked into the bedroom to find some clothes to wear – and he was carrying a garment bag.  
“What is that for?” Clara asked immediately, afraid he might use it to pack up a few suits and move out. Her imagination was running wild before he even had the chance to answer.  
But Alex dropped the bag on the bed.  
“What is that?” she asked again.  
“It's your dress for the ball tonight,” he explained and Clara could hear from the tone of his voice that he was still angry.  
“My what?”  
“I bought it for you in Seattle. I thought it would look good on you.”  
Reluctantly Clara unzipped the bag, revealing a sparkling, midnight blue ball gown. For a moment she had no idea what to say.  
“It's beautiful,” she said in a low voice and looked up at him. For a second she thought she saw a twinkling of satisfaction or even joy in his eyes, “Thank you.”  
Clara cleared her throat. Her voice was still a bit husky from crying all night and somehow this beautiful gift only made her feel worse about what she had done to Alex. “So, we're still going to the Christmas ball? Together?”  
“Unless you'd prefer to take John,” he replied coldly.  
“Alex-”  
“Yes, we're going to the ball together. I bought the dress, we took the dancing lessons, I don't want it to be for nothing. Besides, if we're there together Missy might think twice before she gossips about last night.”  
“Missy is going to be there, too?” Clara asked, the horror all too audible in her voice.  
“Yes,” Alex said sharply, “And I want you to be on your best behaviour. Tonight we will be the nice, perfect couple. If we're convincing, they might not believe what Missy is going to tell them. Can you do that?”  
Clara nodded. Even though Alex was still angry with her, she had a feeling that if she was nice and did everything the way he wanted her to tonight at the ball, he would eventually get over their fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, so, soooooo much for your amazing reviews. Wow, you were really waiting for that kiss, weren't you? :D


	18. Chapter 18

Clara tightened her grip around Alex' arm as they walked into the large ballroom. It was beautifully decorated with Christmas trees and ornaments and tinsel and soft music was playing. Some couples were already dancing, others were standing at the side, chatting happily, the rest was found at their tables. Clara had never felt so uncomfortable in her entire life.  
“Can you please,” Alex said, pointing at her hand on his arm that was slowly digging deeper into the fabric of his suit.  
“Oh, I'm sorry,” she apologized, easing off her grip, “I'm nervous. I feel like everyone is staring at us.”  
“You brought this on yourself, Clara,” he replied coldly.  
“I know,” Clara took a deep breath, “Okay, what do you want to do?”  
“I suggest we find our table,” he said.

Alex led her through the ballroom and Clara was under the impression he was walking deliberately slow to make sure everyone saw them. It didn't take her long to spot Missy, who was standing in a corner, talking to two other woman. When she saw Clara and Alex Missy pointed at the two of them.  
“Okay, Missy just pointed at us. She is telling everyone about last night,” Clara said in a hushed voice, trying to avoid the women's gaze.  
“Ignore it,” Alex told her, “Nothing you can do about that now.”  
As soon as she had sat down at their table, Alex excused himself and went to talk to a co-worker, leaving Clara completely on her own and miserable.  
“Look who we have here,” Missy suddenly said behind her and Clara turned around to see that she was sitting down at the table next to theirs – with the two women she had been talking to earlier and still was. Quickly Clara glanced away.  
“I think it's very brave of him to bring _her_ ,” Missy told her friends, “That Clara is off her rocker, I'm telling you.”  
Furiously Clara turned back around. “Excuse me, I'm right here.”  
Missy gave her a false smile. “Yes, I know. That's why I felt the need to warn my friends.”  
“Well, at least I have the courage to say to your face that you're a bitch!” Clara spat and rose from her chair, walking off in Alex' direction.  
She waited for him to notice her standing next to him and he finished his conversation quickly.  
“I can't stay here, Alex. Not when you leave me alone the entire time,” Clara blurted out.  
Alex only rolled his eyes. “Clara, you're a grown woman. Can't you look past a few weird glances?”  
“No, I can't. I want to leave. Now.”  
She watched Alex take a deep breath. “Clara, please. Let's dance, make sure we're seen by the important people, eat something, and then we can go home. Just one hour. Can you do that?”  
Clara found herself nodding. Alex gently reached for her hand and led her to the dance floor when the song ended.  
“See, it's not that bad,” he said.  
“I suppose,” Clara replied as they took their pose but she immediately felt herself stiffen when his hand landed on her waist. She was bad enough at dancing with him, but yesterday's fight didn't exactly help her relax. When the music started Clara closed her eyes. And thought about John.

 

* * *

 

“I suppose it could have gone worse,” Alex announced as they walked into their living room.  
“You didn't hear her, Alex. That won't be the end of it, I'm telling you!”  
“I know that, Clara,” he replied angrily, “And I'm the one who is going to have to sit through all of that.”  
“I told you I am sorry,” she said, repeating her apology again, “I can't undo it. When will you be able to forgive me?”  
Alex turned around and looked at her. Clara hoped that maybe her pretty face or her puppy dog eyes would help him get over their fight. It had worked before – on lesser things, but apparently not this time.  
“I don't know, Clara, just give it time.”  
“I am sick of this,” Clara yelled, tears forming in her eyes. She just couldn't hold it in any longer, “I hate that we're always fighting. I feel absolutely miserable and I know it's my fault but all I want is for you to kiss me and tell me I'm beautiful like you've always done. Just say it! Say we're going to be fine!”  
Alex hesitated, but eventually he spoke. “We're going to be fine. I hope. And I'm going to bed,” he said and began to turn away.  
“Our bed?”  
“No,” he replied, “I think I'm gonna stay in the guest room for a little while. Are you going to bed, too?”  
Clara swallowed. “No, I think I need some fresh air first.”

 

* * *

 

John grabbed the box of fish 'n chips from the passenger seat and slammed the door of his van, thankful to finally be outside in the cold evening air. Nothing really seemed to help take his mind off Clara. All he could think about was her and how he could tell her that what had happened the night before could never ever happen again. Maybe it was time he told her the truth, told her that Alex was his son. She would understand. And she would also think that he had only used her to get close to him, which might even have been true in the beginning. No, telling her would probably be a mistake.  
John turned around and saw that Clara had also just stepped outside of her house, wearing a long, pretty ball gown under her jacket. She waved at him when she spotted him next to his car and reluctantly John waved back. He watched her look right and left before she crossed the street and approached him.  
“Went out for a midnight snack?” Clara asked casually.  
“Went to the cinema. And then late night snack,” he said, leaning with his back against the van. Clara followed his example.  
“Can I steal one?”  
John held the box in her direction and Clara snagged one of the chips.  
“What film did you see?”  
John sighed. And then he laughed. “I can't actually remember. It was pretty boring. You were at the ball, I assume?”  
“Yes,” Clara replied, staring at her feet, “It was terrible. Missy had told everyone of course and they were all staring at us. I know it was my fault but still, wasn't exactly a nice evening.”  
“Yeah, it kind of is your own fault. What you said to Missy – _ouch_.”  
“I'm sorry,” Clara said, now looking at him. John could tell by her expression that she meant it even though he wished she would stop looking at him like that.  
“It's okay,” John said sincerely.  
“No, it's not okay. Whether everyone believed it or not, I shouldn't have told everyone about your secret. That was anything but okay.”  
“Clara, I never said it was a secret. Do I walk around with a sign around my neck that says _'I've been to prison for murder'_? No, I don't, but it is the truth and it is my past and I never meant to hide that forever.”  
She raised an eyebrow at him. “So you're not mad that I told everyone?”  
“You could have picked a better time and place to do so, but no, not really. I was mad that you screwed things up with Missy. I actually liked her.”  
“Well, I didn't,” Clara mumbled and quickly looked away. He had to say something and he had to say it now before he lost his courage.  
“Clara, what happened last night can never happen again. I hope you know that,” he said simply.  
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted, obviously sad, “Things are complicated with Alex at the moment, but I want to fix it. But you-”  
“No, don't finish that sentence. You and I are friends and whatever feelings we might or might not have, they will go away in time. Let's not complicate it any further.”  
Clara looked up at him hopefully. “We're still friends?”  
John smiled. “Of course we are.”  
“And Glasgow? Do you still want me to go with you?”  
“Yes. And you will meet my sister and you will love her. Now stop worrying about me,” he said and reached for her chin, lifting it up so Clara would look at him, “And worry about Alex. He loves you and you shouldn't put that at risk.”  
Clara nodded slowly. John tried so very hard to look cheerful, even though what he said probably hurt him more than it hurt her. After all, he was sending her to be with another man when, under different circumstances, he wouldn't have hesitated to kiss her again.  
“For what it's worth – you look beautiful tonight. I would have loved to twirl you around the dance floor in that dress.”  
“Thank you,” she whispered and abruptly turned away from him, “Good night, John.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the lovely comments :)))


	19. Chapter 19

“No way,” Clara said determinedly, “I am not going to another company event with you.”  
Alex only groaned. “It's not an event, it's just a New Year's Eve party. It'll be entirely casual.”  
“Is Missy going to be there?”  
Clara raised an eyebrow at him when he didn't answer immediately.  
“Well, yeah, but-”  
“Then I'm not going. I won't go there just to be humiliated.”  
“Well, imagine how Missy must have felt at our party. Clara, this is important to me. I want to make the best impression possible every chance I get before we all go back to work after this weekend,” he explained.  
“No, Alex, you can't force me. And that is my final word. Feel free to make a good impression on your own, but not with me,” Clara insisted, letting herself fall down to sit on the bed.  
“Do you just want to sit at home for New Year's Eve? Amy and Martha probably have plans already, you'll be bored. Now come on, please, get dressed and come with me.”  
She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I'd rather be bored at home than humiliated at a party.”  
“Fine,” Alex spat, “Suit yourself. I'll be back tomorrow around noon, staying at the hotel.”

Alex darted out of the room and Clara waited until she heard the front door slam. She wasn't at all sad about the prospect of spending New Year's Eve on her own, in fact, if she was entirely honest, she was very sick of all the parties and just wanted to relax.  
Clara decided to start her evening by taking a long, hot bubble bath with a nice book and when the water was starting to turn cold, she dried herself off and even though it wasn't even 8 pm she put on her pyjamas.  
As nice as this evening had started, Clara was indeed beginning to feel bored after she had watched just one episode of her favourite show on her laptop. She walked into the kitchen to grab a snack when she suddenly noticed that the light in John's living room was on. Clara hadn't expected him to be at home on New Year's Eve at all and she started to wonder if he had invited people over. But then again, he didn't really know anyone around here, so chances were that he was alone as well. She considered it for a moment and decided she would pay him a visit.  
Clara threw her jacket over her pyjamas, grabbed a bottle of wine and two bags of crisps and a few moments later she knocked on his door.

“Clara,” he uttered in surprise, “What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at a party tonight.”  
“No, I-”  
“John, close the door! It's getting chilly in here!” a female voice called from inside the house and Clara's heart sank immediately. She had been so stupid to assume that John would spend this evening alone. Of course he had invited a woman over.  
“Oh, you. . . you've got company. I, uhm, I better go,” Clara spluttered and was about to turn around when she heard the voice again.  
“If that's your girlfriend, don't be shy, invite her in but _close the door_!”  
“That's my sister Donna,” John explained with a smile, “Do you want to come in?”  
“I, uhm, I'm in my pyjamas.”  
“So is Donna, now come on. If she catches a cold, she'll kill me,” John said and Clara couldn't help but smile when she finally stepped inside the house.  
When Clara entered the living room she spotted a woman with red hair and a friendly face on the sofa, although she could immediately tell by her posture that Donna was not a woman to mess with. Luckily John hadn't lied – she was really wearing her pyjamas.  
“Hi,” Clara said, waving nervously.  
“Clara, this is my sister Donna,” he explained, “Donna, this is Clara, a friend and neighbour. I told you about her on the phone. She's the one who's coming to Glasgow with me.”  
“Ohhhh,” Donna uttered as she got up to greet Clara and she could have sworn she saw the woman wink at John, “You said you'd bring a friend. You failed to mention that it's a pretty, female friend.”  
“If it helps, when I was two I was constantly taken for a boy because of my short hair,” Clara said, still slightly nervous as she shook Donna's hand.  
John helped Clara out of her coat and she sat down in the armchair across from the sofa.  
“It's a shame I won't get to spend the weekend in Glasgow with you two,” Donna said, “I'll catch you when you arrive, but two friends are getting married that weekend and I do not want to miss the hen party.”  
John sank into the couch cushions next to Donna. “Isn't it weird to have a hen party before a gay wedding? How will they do it? Are they having two hen parties for each of them or-?”  
“No, silly brother,” Donna replied, “Vastra and Jenny will both be at the hen party. But they promised a male stripper for the guests.”  
Donna smirked and John laughed at her last comment. “That's basically all you need to know about my sister, Clara. That and the fact that she never shuts up.”  
“Well, someone in the family _had_ to talk. You and dad were both broody. But you know what I'm just noticing, John? Clara and I are both in our pyjamas – why aren't you trying to fit in?”  
“Because I am a decent person and mum taught me to dress well when ladies are around.”  
“He's got reindeer pyjama bottoms,” Donna concluded and Clara burst into laughter. Watching John interact with his sister, who seemed absolutely adorable, was really refreshing and lifted her spirits greatly.  
“Is that true, John? Do you have reindeer pjs?” Clara asked, still laughing.  
“I do _not_ have reindeer pjs,” John replied, “Now, you mentioned a game, Donna?”  
“In a moment,” she said, “First I wanna know why this pretty, young woman shows up in her pyjamas at your place on New Year's Eve.”  
Clara was a little taken aback by her straightforwardness and she could've sworn she heard John mutter 'oh dear Lord' under his breath.  
“I was supposed to go to my boyfriend's company event,” she explained after a moment, “But there has been a change of plans.”  
“There's your reason,” John immediately added, “Now can we play Jenga?”  
Donna turned around to look at John, a smirk on her face. “I've got a better idea. Now that we're three people we can play Twister.”  
John let out a groan. “I can't believe you brought Twister.”  
“I told you, I've brought everything,” Donna said and rose from her seat. A few moments later she had already unpacked the game and was starting to spread the game mat on the floor.  
Clara wasn't entirely sure it was a good idea, but she had to admit that she was kind of itching to play. She hadn't played Twister in years, John probably never had.  
“You two start,” Donna decided, “I'll turn the wheel.”  
John raised his eyebrows in suspicion.  
“You do know the rules, don't you?”  
“Yes,” he hissed at his sister, “I know the rules. I've lived in a prison, not in a cave.”  
“Come on,” Clara found herself saying, giggling a little, “It'll be fun.”

Clara positioned herself next to the mat and John followed her reluctantly, looking as if he still wasn't convinced.  
“Left foot on red,” Donna announced.  
They followed her order and Clara was relieved to find John finally laughing.  
“You're enjoying it already,” Clara teased.  
“No, I am laughing because this is a silly game and I can't believe I'm playing it.”  
“Right hand on green.”  
“This should be played with more people,” Clara said, “It's funnier when the mat is just a tangled mess of limbs.”  
“Oh, really?” John asked after a couple of new moves and Clara laughed because he had brought himself into a pretty wobbly position, “I'm struggling as it is.”  
“I can see that,” she giggled.  
“You both look ridiculous, and now: right foot on blue,” Donna said, also laughing because she probably knew what was about to happen.  
John lost his balanced, toppled over and fell unto the mat, taking Clara with him. Finally he was laughing as well.  
“This is the stupidest game ever invented,” he complained, but the amusement was all too audible in his voice.  
Clara couldn't reply. She was chuckling and trying to catch her breath. Finally John rose from the mat and held his hand in her direction to help her up.  
“Okay,” Clara announced, “Now it's you and Donna.”  
They played for a while longer. First it was Clara's turn to spin the wheel, amusing herself at how silly John looked trying to beat his sister at the game. Unfortunately he failed, but only because Donna had cheated a little. She knew that Clara had caught her, but Clara would never tell. Afterwards John insisted on a break and so Clara and Donna had a go at the Twister mat and their game went on forever because they were both pretty good at it. Eventually John told them that they were approaching midnight. 

Clara hadn't even noticed how much time had passed since she had entered the house and for the first time she thought about Alex, who was still at the company party and probably not having as good a time as she was having. She was beginning to feel a little guilty, but that thought quickly vanished when John held a glass of champagne in her direction. She took it with a smile and glanced at the little alarm clock on the table in front of them.  
“And ten,” Donna shouted, “nine, eight, . . .”  
John and Clara joined in. “Seven, six, five, . . .”  
She glanced at John, smiling, and he looked back at her.  
“Four, three, two, one. . . Happy New Year!”  
They clinked their glasses and John turned around to hug his sister, who then shortly after turned towards Clara to hug her as well. However John seemed a little reluctant, just standing there, looking at her.  
“Come on, give her a New Year's kiss,” Donna prompted him.  
John turned around, glaring at Donna. “ _What?_ ”  
“A peck on the lips, go on, for good luck.”  
Clara felt as if she was frozen on the spot and suddenly realized that Donna was either utterly clueless or too smart for her own good. Had she picked up on the thing that was going on between her and John and that neither of them dared to name or really talk about? No, she couldn't have. Or could she? Was it _that_ obvious?  
“She's right,” Clara heard herself say, praying that her voice wasn't trembling, “It's bad luck if you don't.”  
She gave John a weak, apologetic smile, hating herself just a little for jumping at the opportunity, but she really wanted to feel his lips on her own again and she would do just about anything for that right now.  
“Alright,” John eventually said, clearing his throat.  
He bent down and what was meant as a quick peck probably lasted a second longer than it should have. Clara closed her eyes, taking in the feeling of his lips brushing against her own and she was close to opening her mouth to invite him in, but before she had the chance John pulled away.  
When Clara opened her eyes again, she caught a glimpse of Donna – smiling knowingly – and Clara quickly straightened her shirt to cover up the awkwardness of the situation. 

“How about Scrabble?” Donna suddenly asked, breaking the awkward silence.  
“What?” John asked, turning to look at her.  
“The game?! Scrabble?!”  
“Oh, yeah, sure,” he agreed and quickly glanced back to Clara, a shy smile on his face, “Do you want to go home or stay for another game?”  
“Do you want me to stay?” she asked nervously.  
John nodded and so it was decided. Clara smiled and sat down on the sofa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the comments. Guys, why are you so impatient? :D


	20. Chapter 20

They had just started their fourth game of Scrabble when both Donna and John said they couldn't begin with a word. Clara blushed.  
“I might be able to start,” she said reluctantly.  
“Then go ahead, cause I can't. I've only got consonants,” he told her.  
“Well,” Clara hesitated, clearing her throat, “Blame it on the hour, but my word is slightly. . . dirty.”  
“Then you've _got_ to start,” Donna laughed, “Let's see what you've got.”  
“Okay, but it'll be on your head,” Clara said as she slowly began to lay out the word 'fellatio'.  
Donna sniggered, John just raised an eyebrow.  
“Well, you could have said 'loaf' or 'float', but that. . . works. . . too,” he said before he burst into laughter as well.  
“But this one is earning me more points,” Clara said, joining in their laughter, “Gosh, we're adults. This shouldn't be that funny.”  
“Everything is funny at 4 am,” Donna replied.  
“What?” John gasped, staring at the alarm clock that they had cast aside after midnight, “How can it be 4 am?”  
“I don't know, but this is definitely my last round,” Clara announced, “I'm getting tired.”  
“Yeah, me too,” Donna agreed. 

They finished the game, Clara winning it after her head start and she sank back against the backrest of the sofa, tired, but happy. She couldn't remember the last time she had had so much fun.  
“Well, it was a lovely evening. It was a pleasure to meet you, Clara,” Donna said as she rose from the couch.  
“Aren't you gonna stay for a couple more days?” Clara asked, rising from her seat as well to hug Donna good night.  
“I wish, but work is calling. My train leaves in the early afternoon. Take care of this one while I'm away,” she said, pointing at John as she made her way into John's bedroom, “Good night!”  
“Good night,” both John and Clara said at the same time and Clara sank back into her seat, exhaling sharply.  
“Your sister is lovely,” Clara said with a smile, “I really like her.”  
“I'm positive that she likes you, too,” John said, an undertone in his voice that Clara couldn't quite place.  
Clara sighed and rested her head on John's shoulder. “Where are you gonna sleep?”  
“On the sofa,” he replied before he placed a kiss on her hair.  
“I'm tired. I should go home. Are you tired?”  
Clara craned her neck to look at him and for a moment she thought she had caught him dreaming.  
“Yes,” he replied after a pause.  
And then he did something Clara had never expected him to do. John cupped her face in his hands and bent down to brush his lips against hers, not like he had done earlier, but slowly and deliberately. She closed her eyes. It was the sort of kiss that made the butterflies in her stomach dance wildly as she opened her mouth to let him in. His tongue brushed her own carefully and Clara let her hand wander over his chest, feeling his heartbeat fast under her palm. He was nervous and Clara wanted this moment to never end. She sat up straight, never breaking contact, and allowed John to close his arms around her, pulling her closer against his chest as he kept kissing her, the early hesitation and insecurity slowly giving way to passion as he sucked on her bottom lip. Eventually he broke the kiss, desperate for air.  
Clara giggled softly. “You're an amazing kisser, John,” she whispered, “I bet you're an amazing lover as well.”  
“That, my Clara,” he began, caressing her face as he spoke, though never breaking eye contact, “is something we will never find out together.”  
“I know,” she replied, her voice suddenly sad as she rested her head on his chest, “I know.”  
She waited for a moment, her hand finding his and they hooked their fingers together.  
“Have you. . . I mean. . . after prison. . . have you been with a woman?” Clara found herself asking. She was curious, although she wasn't sure whether she really wanted to know.  
“No,” John replied, keeping his voice low, but she could hear a chuckle coming from him, “You successfully ruined the latest chance I had.”  
“Would you like to?”  
John gave a soft laugh. “I'd be a liar if I said no.”  
Clara sat up again until she was at eye level with him, regarding him closely. The better she came the know John the more attractive he grew in her opinion. She loved his unruly, silver curls, the grey eyes that seemed old and boyish at the same time, the smile on his lips that he gave her when she said something funny.  
“Clara, no,” he warned her, obviously reading her thoughts from her face, “Alex.”  
“You said ' _whatever feelings we might have_ '. You said _we_.”  
John closed his arms around her, pulling her face back against his chest and Clara shut her eyes, breathing in the scent of him and for a moment just enjoying being close to him.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Clara noticed when she woke up was that she was feeling warm and utterly comfortable. Still half dreaming she nuzzled her face against the warm chest in front of her and strong arms were pulling her closer, holding her. For a moment Clara was determined to go back to sleep, but then a thought crossed her mind. Alex was still sleeping in the guest bedroom. She couldn't remember walking home and or going to sleep in her own bed. Carefully Clara opened her eyes.  
John was obviously still asleep – they had fallen asleep on the sofa, holding each other. Her guilty conscience immediately told her to get up, wake John and leave, but she was so comfortable. He was holding her and she hadn't felt so loved and protected in such a long time. It was just cuddling, nothing to feel bad about, Clara told herself as she closed her eyes again. John should be the one to wake up first and Clara was determined to enjoy every second of this until he did.

Suddenly someone cleared their throat. “Do you guys need me to pretend to be asleep for another hour or so?” Donna asked.  
Clara opened her eyes again and so did John. He seemed confused for a moment, looking at Clara first, and then at Donna.  
“Donna,” he blurted out, immediately letting go of Clara and straightening himself into a sitting position, “You're up!”  
“Yes, I am up. I better be. My train leaves in two and a half hours,” she said and casually took a sip from her coffee.  
Then suddenly it hit Clara like a sledgehammer. “What time is it?” she asked, panic in her voice.  
“11:30,” Donna replied and Clara immediately jumped up, ignoring that she felt slightly dizzy from the suddenly rush of blood.  
“I need to go. Alex is gonna be home soon,” she said and quickly rushed to grab her jacket, “Sorry. It was lovely meeting you, Donna. See you!”

She darted across the street and realized in horror that Alex' car was already parked in the driveway. Clara was too late and he would never, ever forgive her for this. Not only had she refused to spend New Year's Eve at the company party with him, she had also lied to him and gone to John to celebrate. And to make it worse she was now returning – at noon – in her pyjamas.  
Clara opened the front door as quietly as possible so as not to attract his immediate attention and left her jacket on the coat rack before she stepped into the living room. It was empty. Clara quickly moved on to the kitchen and found Alex sitting at the table, quietly drinking a cup of coffee.  
“Oh, you're up,” he said and immediately rose from his chair.  
He placed a quick kiss on her forehead. “Happy New Year,” he said, his tone of voice eerily friendly.  
“Happy New Year to you, too,” Clara said reluctantly and hoped that her confusion didn't show. Why was he being so nice?  
“I hope I didn't wake you when I got in?” he asked, “The whole house was quiet, so I assumed you were still asleep.”  
“No,” Clara shook her head, utterly relieved now, “You didn't wake me at all.”  
Clara had to refrain from sighing in relief. Alex had never noticed her absence at all.  
“Listen, I've been thinking,” Alex said suddenly.  
“Mh?” she asked, still not entirely over the shock of almost being caught.  
“Last night without you, it just didn't feel right. I felt terrible. I know we've had our differences lately, but it's like you said. I'm tired of fighting, too. I want things to go back to normal.”  
“So do I,” Clara said weakly.  
“But I don't think it's going to be easy. I think we're got so many little problems that are just slowly turning into a big one.”  
“Have you talked to Amy?” Clara laughed nervously, “Cause she said a similar thing to me.”  
“I love you, Clara,” Alex said sincerely and the words seem to pierce her chest, “And I don't want to lose you. That's why I think we should take things slowly. I will stay in the guest bedroom until we've gone a while without being at each other's throat. We'll just take baby steps, okay?”  
Clara nodded slowly, ignoring the feeling of a knot forming in her stomach.  
“I'll start,” he said, approaching her and placing his hands on her arms, “I forgive you for what happened at the party.”  
“Thank you,” Clara muttered right before Alex bent down and kissed her.  
She stiffened under his touch. No matter how much she had wanted him to forgive her and get over their fight, her joy was tainted by the things she had done that Alex didn't know about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for the lovely comments :) I'm glad you're still enjoying the story.


	21. Chapter 21

“I'm going to see Amy and wish her a Happy New Year,” Clara announced, grabbing her coat, and was already halfway out of the door when Alex stopped her.  
“I could come with you,” he suggested casually.  
“Uhm, better not,” she replied, rummaging through her brain for a good excuse that wasn't an obvious lie, “I think she wants some girl talk. We haven't really gotten around to that lately.”  
“Oh, okay,” Alex muttered and gave her a peck on the cheek, “See you later then.”

Clara was out of the house before he even had the chance to say something else and rushed along the pavement until she finally reached Amy's and Rory's house. Nervously she rang the doorbell, hoping that her friend wasn't too tired or hungover to talk. Luckily she opened the door cheerfully.  
“Hey Clara,” Amy said happily, “Come to wish us a Happy New Year?”  
Clara forced herself to smile. She needed to talk, she _desperately_ needed to talk.  
“Oh dear,” her friend said when she saw the look on her face, “What happened?”  
“I screwed up,” Clara replied, “Or I will. I'm in the process of screwing up.”  
“Okay, that sounds bad. Come on in,” Amy held the door open for her as Clara entered and both went straight into the kitchen.  
Rory said hello, but after Amy had thrown him a look he excused himself and left and Amy set out to make them both a cup of tea.  
“Okay, what happened?” Amy asked after she sat down at the table next to Clara.  
Clara took a sip and realized the tea was still too hot to serve as a distraction. “John happened.”  
Amy chuckled. “I already kind of guessed that. What is going on between you two?”  
“Nothing,” Clara said defensively, “Well, at least it used to be nothing. We are friends, good friends.”  
“But how? When did that happen and, most importantly, did he really go to prison for murder?”  
“He did, but that's a long story. There is nothing you should worry about. And I guess we were friends from the beginning. I just feel really comfortable around him,” Clara explained, “He's a great listener, he cheers me up. Everything is just so easy with him.”  
“Sorry, but so far that doesn't sound like screwing up to me,” Amy said, raising her eyebrows curiously.  
“We kissed,” she said simply, looking into her friend's shocked face, “Twice. Or three times, depending on how you count the first one.”  
Amy gasped. “ _When? How?_ Clara, I need to know _everything_!”  
Clara sighed and told her friend all the details about the first kiss, or the first two on the night of the theme party and about what had gone on the previous night.  
“You cuddled all night? And nothing happened?”  
“No, John isn't like that,” Clara explained, “But, Amy, I _would have_. I would have gone further than just a kiss if John hadn't stopped me, despite Alex. I just didn't care.”  
“Well, things with Alex have been rough, haven't they? Maybe you just wanted comfort.”  
“But I shouldn't want that!” Clara said, her voice now small and broken, “When Alex got mad at me for being friends with John and keeping it from him, I should have ended the friendship, even if it was just to make Alex feel better, but I didn't want to.”  
“Question,” Amy suddenly said, “Imagine that Alex didn't exist and you were single – would you be with John? Romantically?”  
She thought about it for a moment and nodded before her mind had even formed the words. “Yeah,” she replied weakly, “Yes, I would.”  
Her friend sighed. “I'm sorry to tell you this, but it looks to me as if you're in love with him.”  
“I was afraid you were gonna say that,” Clara said, “And I'm afraid that doesn't help me at all.”  
“Well, Clara, you're my friend, so whatever decision you make I am going to have your back, but you've _got_ to make a decision. And make it soon. You want to be with John? That's fine, but be honest with Alex. He's a good guy and he doesn't deserve to be played with. You decide to stay with Alex, you have to stop seeing John because you know that something will happen eventually.”  
“John and I are going to Glasgow together in February,” Clara said, “It is something I promised to help him with. I will decide after the weekend.”  
Amy nodded slowly.  
“But how about you?” Clara suddenly changed the topic as well as her tone of voice, “You look surprisingly fit for a day after a big party.”  
Amy gave her a reluctant smile. “We went home shortly after midnight. I was feeling a bit tired.”  
“Is everything okay with you? You do look pale, well, paler than usual,” she corrected herself.  
The smile on her friend's face widened. “I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. We're not sure yet and I don't want to get my hopes up, but I'm late and I've been feeling a bit off lately, so-”  
Clara grinned at Amy. “You think it finally worked?”  
Amy nodded, smiling broadly. Clara immediately threw her arms around her friend and hugged her tightly.  
“Slow down,” Amy reminded her, “It's just an inkling. I could be wrong again.”  
“Don't be silly,” Clara giggled, “You know you're pregnant! I bet you took a test already.”  
“I did, but they aren't completely reliable. I want to be 100% sure before I start shopping for baby clothes.”  
“No,” Clara replied, pointing at Amy's stomach, “I am absolutely certain there is a small Clara Martha Pond in there.”  
Amy laughed. “I am absolutely certain there isn't. If it's a girl, well, if it's anything at all, it will _not_ be called Clara Martha.”  
She pouted at her friend. “Well, that's still debatable, I hope. And I better get back home now. You three have a lovely day!”

 

* * *

 

John carried Donna's bag to the platform before he set it down and started looking around, hoping the train would already be there. His sister had been looking at him all the way to the train station and so far he had been able to evade the subject.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Donna finally asked, eyeing him expectantly.  
“No, I don't,” he replied sharply, “Because there is nothing to talk about.”  
“ _Ha!_ ” she exclaimed, “The fact that you _knew_ what I meant means there _is_ something to talk about.”  
“There isn't. Clara is a friend. That's all,” he said, staring at the board announcing incoming trains. Damn, the one to Glasgow was 5 minutes late.  
“I don't usually sleep on a small sofa all snuggled up to my friends. And I'm not stupid, I saw the way you two look at each other and I saw how flustered you were after the kiss. You can't lie to me, John. Remember Nancy?”  
“I told everyone that I just helped her with her school homework!” John said defensively.  
“Yes, and everyone knew you were lying. At least after mum found the condom wrapper in your room. And for the record, I could tell by your face the first time you brought her home.”  
“Well, I was 17,” he replied, “I wasn't very smart back then.”  
“Yeah, and you're not very smart now,” Donna laughed, “At least not when it comes to hiding your feelings.”  
“Don't you have your own love life to worry about?” John asked angrily. He knew that Donna was currently single after her divorce and he probably shouldn't have mentioned it, but he really wanted her to stop talking about Clara. Things with her were complicated enough, especially after last night, and he hadn't even had time to think about it properly.  
“I am single, and happily so – for the moment,” Donna explained, “But you, dear brother, aren't. You're head over heels in love with that girl. And it looks to me as if the feeling is mutual.”  
“Clara has a boyfriend. I don't want to get into the middle of that, not again. I've done love triangles and it never ends well.”  
The train rolled into the station and Donna sighed.  
“Think about it, John, before you make both of you miserable.”  
“I'll call you,” he replied coldly and turned away as soon as Donna had stepped on the train. 

John knew that he could have told Donna about Alex being his son. It would have stopped her from trying to meddle with his love life, but then he would have listened to a long sermon about how stupid it was of him to just move on the same street and try to befriend his son – an endeavour that was failing as it was. His growing feelings for Clara only complicated the matter further. He knew he should just stay away from her, but that was the one thing he simply couldn't do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the sweet comments :)))


	22. Chapter 22

Clara was writhing underneath him, desperately trying to get off the hairpin that had been poking uncomfortably into her back for a while, but Alex was too heavy and too focused on the task at hand to notice and she was afraid to say anything so as not to throw him off track. His thrusts came harder now and Clara tried so hard to close her eyes and forget about the pin jabbing into her lower back but she couldn't. She moaned in frustration as she realized the mood wouldn't strike her and she had so been looking forward to this, their first time after their fight, their first time in almost two months.  
His release came swiftly and Alex lifted himself off her and rolled onto his back. The first thing Clara did was to pick up that damned hairpin and throw it across the room.  
“I'm sorry, babe,” he panted, “I couldn't hold back.”  
“It's okay,” Clara mumbled grumpily.  
He turned towards her and closed his arm around her waist. “I promise, after the weekend we'll find some time and I will take really good care of you.”  
“When will you be back?” Clara asked, trying to change the subject. The last thing she wanted to do now was think about sex after this disaster.  
“Sunday evening. My mother and I will go to the theatre in the afternoon. It's my birthday present for her.”  
Clara nodded.  
“Before I leave,” Alex paused, “There is something I wanted to talk to you about.”  
His voice had suddenly turned grave and Clara became wary. Had he picked up on something? Had he found out she was going away over the weekend as well?  
“I was asked to the big boss this week,” he explained, “Things at the office have been tense, to say the least. Missy has been telling everyone and it's been causing a lot of friction.”  
“I'm sorry,” Clara apologized again.  
“Clara, I told you I've forgiven you,” Alex reminded her gently, “Unfortunately, that doesn't change the fact that it's been causing problems and my boss gave me three options.”  
“Options?” Clara sat up in her bed, looking at Alex, “That sounds bad. It's bad, isn't it?”  
Alex followed her example and sat up as well, keeping his eyes fixed on her. “Not necessarily. But I wanted to talk to you about it. And I want you to think about it. Don't freak out, just listen to me and promise me to think about it.”  
“Okay, now you're scaring me. What are the options?” she asked warily.  
“He told me that things can't go on the way the are right now. He told me to either come to an understanding with Missy, sit down with her over dinner, have a talk, see if we can settle the argument.”  
“And if that doesn't work?” Clara asked immediately.  
“If that doesn't work,” Alex took a deep breath, “He wants me to step down from my position as head of human resources. I would still work in the department, roughly the same pay, just not as many responsibilities, less representative functions.”  
Clara breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay, it's not as bad as I expected.”  
“It's not bad. But it's just not as impressive. Head of human resources is a stepping stone, either further up or to a better position in another company.”  
“What is the third option?” she demanded to know, now realizing that Alex had so far named only two.  
He hesitated for a moment.  
“I could work as head of human resources,” Alex paused, “In the Seattle office.”  
“No!” Clara said immediately, raising her voice, “No way!”  
“Clara, please, calm down. That is the last of the three options, but it's not a bad one,” Alex tried to calm her, “Seattle is a nice city. It's well paid and I really think you would like it there.”  
“No!” Clara insisted and got out of bed to tower over him, “I will not move to Seattle. My whole life is here! My job! My friends! My family!”  
“You see your family twice a year. You could still do that while living in Seattle. You could work as a teacher and we would find new friends. The people I've met there are actually really nice.”

Clara looked at him for a moment. She knew she would never agree to move to Seattle, no matter how many good arguments Alex threw at her feet. But looking at him she realized something.  
“Oh my God,” she uttered, “You _want_ to take the job. You _want_ to move to Seattle.”  
Alex took a deep, defeated breath. “Yes,” he admitted, “I would like to. But only if you agree to come with me. If you say no, I won't go. I will try to settle things with Missy or I will step down from my current position. But I want you to think about it, please, at least consider it. If you say no, that's fine, but don't say no immediately. Take all the time you need, but please, think it through. Maybe, maybe it could be the new beginning that we need.”  
“Okay,” Clara replied angrily, “I will think about it, but I can't promise you that I will change my mind.”  
Alex got out of bed and placed a soft kiss to her head.  
“That is enough for me right now,” he said gently, “Now, I have to shower. Do you want to come with me?”  
Clara shook her head. “No, I'll shower after you.”

Alex left the house shortly after, catching a taxi to visit his mother while Clara took a quick shower and packed a few clothes for Glasgow. With her bag in her hand she headed over to John's house. As soon as he opened the door, Clara dropped her bag and flung her arms around his neck. She could feel his surprise as he was only reluctantly hugging her back, but she had missed him so much and she just needed a hug after the conversation she had had with Alex earlier.  
“Is everything alright?” he asked, obviously worried.  
“Yes,” she lied, “Everything's fine.”

Clara couldn't tell him that nothing was fine. She had set herself a deadline – after this weekend she would decide whether she would stay with Alex or break up with him and tell John how she felt. If she told him now, he would urge her to stay with her boyfriend because that's the kind of man that John was. He would never willingly steal Clara away from Alex.

They drove to the train station in John's van, listening to the radio the whole time and exchanging small talk over what song and what band they liked. To her surprise she found they had vaguely the same taste in music. Arriving at the station, John insisted on carrying both their bags despite Clara's protest and shortly after she found herself sitting in a window seat on a train to Glasgow and John took the seat next to her.  
Clara turned around to look at him and forced a smile.  
“Hey,” John said and cupped her face gently in his hands, caressing her cheek with his thumb, “Are you sure you're alright?”  
Clara raised her own hand and placed it on his to keep it exactly where it was and sighed.  
“I had a bit of a quarrel with Alex this morning. Nothing bad, but annoying.”  
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked carefully.  
“No,” Clara replied and shook her head before she rested it against his shoulder, “Just tell me something.”  
“What would you like to hear?”  
“Something about you. Or Glasgow. Tell me about your childhood in Glasgow.”  
John placed his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer. He started to describe Glasgow to her but soon Clara realized that she was beginning to drift off. She closed her eyes and let his soft voice lull her to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the lovely comments. I know some of you think that Alex is cheating on Clara and since I don't intend to put it in the story I'm just gonna clear it up here: Alex is not cheating on Clara.


	23. Chapter 23

They arrived in Glasgow in the late afternoon when it was already dark and John led a still rather sleepy Clara to a taxi that brought them directly to Donna's house.  
“I thought you'd never get here,” Donna greeted them impatiently, hugging Clara first and waiting until John had set the bags aside to hug him as well.  
“Wow, Donna, you look stunning,” Clara told her, gesturing towards the dress that she had obviously picked to wear to the hen party.  
“Yes, sister, when are you going to change into your party clothes?”  
He earned a punch in the arm for that last comment before Donna smiled at him and led them both further into the house. As soon as he stepped inside John immediately felt as if the walls were moving, closing in on him and he was reminded of his time after prison. The nightmares and the fear that seemed so far away when he was in London still clung to this house. He was nervous and it was as if the past five months that had made him feel like a normal person again were eradicated from his life.  
“I don't have much time, my taxi could get here any minute,” she explained, “You picked a bit of a complicated time to visit. I'm currently redecorating.”  
“I can see that,” John said, looking around the house. The first thing he noticed was that the sofa was missing from the living room and instead he found a couple of large pillows in front of the telly. Catalogues and paint samples were scattered on the floor next to them.  
“The new couch is getting here next week. And, well, the guest room is also being renovated at the moment, but I assumed you wouldn't mind sharing a bed for the weekend,” Donna said casually as she opened the door to the bedroom. Whatever she said afterwards was lost on him because John was very busy glaring at his sister.  
“Oh no, that's fine,” he heard Clara say, “It's a large bed. If he snores I'll just push him out.”  
“Donna,” John said harshly, “Could I talk to you for a moment?”

He didn't wait for her response. Instead he caught hold of her arm and dragged her back into the living room. She smiled at him innocently.  
“What the hell are you trying to do, Donna?” he asked angrily.  
“Nothing,” she replied defensively, “I'm redecorating and you knew that. It's not my fault you picked this weekend to visit. Besides, you and Clara seemed fine to share a couch the other night.”  
“That was unintentional,” John told her, trying very hard not to raise his voice, “What do you think is going to happen?!”  
Donna shrugged, still smiling. “I don't care what's going to happen. As long as you change the sheets afterwards.”  
“ _Nothing_ is going to happen. Clara has a boyfriend, remember?”  
“Yes, and it's you. She just doesn't know it yet.”  
“Donna!” John spat her name like a curse and at this exact moment Clara entered the room as well.  
“John, it's fine. The bed is huge. We could both sleep like starfish without even touching.”

John was about to open his mouth and speak when the doorbell interrupted him. Donna jumped up happily.  
“That will be my taxi,” she said and grabbed her purse from the coffee table, “Hope you two have a nice weekend. See you before I leave?”  
He growled at her, but Clara smiled and politely wished her a safe journey and fun at the wedding. As soon as Donna was out of the door, he turned around to face Clara.  
“I'm so sorry. I need to apologize for my sister,” he said earnestly.  
Clara laughed in reply. “No need. Your sister is really sweet.”  
“She is, but the bedroom-”  
“I know what she is trying to do, John,” she confirmed, still smiling, “Don't worry about it.”  
“That doesn't bother you?” he asked in surprise.  
“Well, she can try all she wants. In the end it's our decision, isn't it?”  
“I guess you're right.”  
“I don't mind sharing a bed,” Clara continued, “And I mean it. If you snore, I'll kick you out. I know no mercy when it comes to that.”  
Clara smiled at him and John started to laugh under her gaze. “Okay, that seems like a fair deal,” he paused, “So, what do you wanna do tonight? It's a bit late to go and start investigating. Do you want to go out for dinner?”  
“Actually,” she began, “Can we just order pizza and stay inside? I don't really fancy going out tonight.”  
“Fine by me,” John shrugged. It was a lie. If he was honest he wanted to spend as little time in this house as possible, but he saw Clara yawning again and his own personal feelings suddenly didn't feel so important anymore.

While Clara went to change into more comfortable clothes, John ordered pizza for both of them and then settled down on the pillows in front of the TV, trying to occupy himself with the news until Clara came back in her pyjamas.  
“When did they say that the pizza will be here?” she asked as she sat down next to him, “I'm starving.”  
“Uhm, 20 minutes. Can you hold out that long?”  
Clara laughed. “Of course I can,” she paused, eyeing him for a moment, “So, how are you feeling?”  
“Good,” John lied, busying himself by browsing through one of the furniture catalogues.  
“Okay, and how are you _really_ feeling?”  
One look at Clara's face told him that she couldn't be tricked so easily. He sighed and gave up trying.  
“I stayed here, in this house, when I was released from prison. I was glad that my sister took me in, but there are still some memories here that I'd like to forget. The first few weeks weren't exactly nice.”  
“You never told me what it was like, being in prison that long without really knowing what you've done wrong,” Clara noticed, keeping her voice low as if there was someone else around that could overhear them.  
“We had psychologists and social workers to help us cope, help us understand. Prison isn't being locked in your room for 25 years. They give you things to do according to your talents. If you behaved you could watch a movie in the evenings. I read a lot in my spare time, listened to a lot of music. I was allowed to leave the prison for my parents' funerals. That was the thing that felt most. . . surreal. I had gotten used to it by that time and suddenly stepping outside the fence with your guards behind your back felt really wrong.”  
“And when you were released?” Clara asked carefully.  
John considered it for a moment. “At first it felt like I had never left my cell, like I had just exchanged one prison for another. I used to get nightmares, thinking I was still in my cell, thinking the air was running out and the walls were coming closer. But Donna helped me, and so did the social workers. It got a lot better when I moved to London. Bigger house, fresh start,” John explained, shrugging.  
When he turned his face towards Clara he saw her looking at him through sad eyes, like she would just love to take that weight off him if she only could. He reached for her hand.  
“I'm better now,” he told her, “It's just the memories of this place.”  
“Will you be okay when we go back to where it happened?”  
John nodded, smiling kindly. “Yes. You'll be there to protect me, won't you?”  
A smile spread over her face and Clara placed her hand on top of his. “Yes, I will.”  
The doorbell rang through the momentary silence.  
“That will be the pizza,” John said and rose from his pillow to answer the door.

 

* * *

 

John opened his eyes to find that the ceiling had moved. He could have sworn it never used to be this close, but when he extended his hands and still couldn't touch it he felt relieved and closed his eyes again. But had it really not moved? When he looked again it was suddenly right in front of his face and panic started to rise up inside him. He couldn't even stretch his arms anymore. Quickly he rolled towards the edge of the bed and slid down the ladder. The bed below his was empty and the air was stifling down here. John turned around, looking for his desk but it had gone. It couldn't even fit in the room any longer. The walls were moving – he had to get out. John ran straight for the door, or where he had suspected the door to be, but he only found cold, impregnable concrete. He hammered his fists against the wall, his heartbeat now increasing as he realized there was no way out.  
“John?”  
He turned around, looking for the source of the voice, but there was none. Just a small, empty room. He was stuck. There was no escape this time.  
“JOHN!”

When he opened his eyes he saw Clara's angelic face bent over him and she looked so worried. Of course she was worried, he was trapped and she couldn't help him.  
“John, it's okay,” she whispered gently and he now realized that she was touching him, “You were dreaming. It was just a nightmare.”  
John took a deep breath, noticing that he was panting and that his palms felt sweaty. His heart was still beating too fast. Clara smiled at him, a calming sight, and suddenly she was gone. He turned around to see that she opened the door and then walked towards the window to crack it open as well, letting the cold February air inside. It felt oddly soothing.  
Clara crawled back under the duvet and placed her arms around his chest, looking at him.  
“Better?” she asked, smiling weakly.  
She was so beautiful in the dim light of the street lamp that shone through the window and she was so close to him. Every vow he had made to never kiss her again after New Year's Eve seemed stupid to him right now. He loved her, he wanted her. Why shouldn't he be allowed a kiss?  
“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Clara asked him in a low voice, “Light? Water? A hug? Just say it.”  
John didn't think. His hand stroked a strand of hair out of her face, fastening it behind her ear before he gently pulled her down to meet him. Clara didn't seem at all surprised by the kiss as she quickly straddled his lap, pressing herself down on his chest as she kissed him back and John tried so very hard to drown the voice that told him it was wrong. Her hands were wandering under his shirt, tickling his skin in the best of ways and leaving goosebumps where her nails gently scraped it. He sucked her lip hungrily, feeling her breath fast and hot on his mouth and Clara giggled as she began grinding against him, making his blood rush south.  
_It was wrong. She was with Alex – his son. She was practically his daughter in law._  
Clara broke the kiss for a moment to grab his shirt and pull it over his head, but the pause was enough to make him see reason. When she tried to kiss him again, John placed his hands on her arms and held her back.  
“What's wrong?” she asked, “Did you not like it?”  
John moaned in frustration as he pulled her down and Clara came to lie on top of his chest. He closed his arms around her in a gentle hug.  
“Oh Clara,” he sighed, “I like it a little too much.”  
“I want you,” Clara whispered against his bare chest, “I know it's wrong, but I want you. And I think you only keep pushing me away because you're a good person.”  
“Let's just sleep now, okay?” he said and kissed her forehead.  
Clara murmured something in reply and nuzzled her face against his skin. John let his head sink back into the pillow, knowing that he was doomed. He couldn't resist her, not for much longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so, very, very, VERY much for the sweet comments :)


	24. Chapter 24

Clara woke up still lying on top of him, John's arms holding her right where she was and she smiled to herself. His walls were crumbling and she was sure that it was only a matter of time until he gave in to her. His silly conscience was holding him back when Clara should be the one feeling bad – but she wasn't. Not when everything with him felt so utterly right. She struggled against his embrace and crawled up to be face to face with him, but John didn't wake up. Clara giggled and took a strand of her hair between her fingers, tickling his nose and his mouth with it. He wrinkled his face and finally opened his eyes.  
“Clara,” he mumbled sleepily, “What was that?”  
She repeated the movement, drawing her hair along the line of his lips and John uttered a “mhph” before he took her by the waist and turned them both over, Clara landing on her back and John resting his head on her stomach. She couldn't help but laugh and buried her fingers in his wonderful, curly hair. He growled – or purred – when she massaged his scalp with her fingertips and Clara thought about how nice it would be to wake up like this every morning. She knew it wouldn't be exactly like this every single day should she choose to be with John, but even during their best times things with Alex had never quite felt like this. Maybe John would be the right choice. The only thing that was missing to make this morning perfect was John pinning her down on the bed and making love to her.  
“We should get up,” Clara found herself saying, “We've got a few places to visit.”  
“Mh.”  
“Come on, sleepyhead,” she said and managed to free herself from his weight. Clara got out of bed and swiftly drew back the duvet, wrapping herself in it, and stepped back from the bed.  
“Evil!” John growled, now turning around to look at her. He was adorable like this, sleepy and unshaven as he was and Clara giggled.  
“Shall I make breakfast?” she asked.  
John sat up on the edge of the bed. “No, there's a café with a breakfast menu just around the corner.”  
“Good,” Clara smiled, “I'll go take a quick shower. Don't fall back asleep.”  
“You took the duvet!”  
“I know,” Clara laughed as she made her way to the bathroom. 

They had a late breakfast in the small café that John had told her about, exchanging small talk over their coffee and croissants and not mentioning what had happened the night before with a single word. Clara decided not to push it.  
“Do you want to go right away?” she asked him after they had finished their coffee.  
John smiled and took her hand in his own. “I'd rather just show you a bit of Glasgow while the sun is up. We can still go to the bar when it's dark.”  
Clara nodded, refusing to let go of his hand as they walked outside into the cold winter air and they made their way to one of the pick up stations for the Glasgow sightseeing bus tour like John had suggested. She had the feeling that maybe he was stalling, trying to avoid going back to the bar – but it was like he had said. There would still be time for that later and right now she was enjoying herself too much to complain.  
They got on board of a sightseeing bus and Clara leaned against his shoulder, loving the fact that he didn't seem to mind her being clingy as he kept talking over the tour guide, pointing out his old school and the spots where he used to meet with his friends when he was a teenager.  
“That is where I got my first kiss,” he said, smiling at Clara and pointing at a park they were passing, “I was 15 and Sarah, my best friend, had felt sorry for me because I hadn't been kissed. It was really awkward.”  
“Would you like another?” Clara asked playfully.  
“What?”  
Before he had a chance to say no she pulled him down for a soft peck on the lips, smiling against his mouth as they brushed against each other.  
John growled, but couldn't hide a grin. “Why do I keep letting you do this?”  
“Because you like it,” she replied. It wasn't a question. It was a statement. John placed his arm around her and pulled her back against his shoulder with a sigh.

When the afternoon had arrived Clara and John left the bus close to the bar and walked the rest of the way and she noticed that John's pace got slower the closer they came to their destination.  
“Are you alright?” she asked before they walked around a corner.  
John sighed. “This is it. Just one more turn and we're there.”  
“This street?”  
“No,” John replied, “There is a vennel on the other side of the bar. It has a side entrance. I,” he paused, “I didn't want to go straight to the place.”  
“It's okay,” Clara reassuring him, reaching for his hand again, “We'll get something to eat, have a beer and then we'll have a look together.”  
It seemed to her as if Clara led the rest of the way, dragging him and his memories behind her as they entered the small pub. It looked cosy, though she assumed it had been redecorated in the past 25 years and that assumption was quickly confirmed by John as they took a seat in a corner. She left him there to order their drinks, relying on the barman's recommendations for that, and two portions of fish 'n chips. When Clara came back to the table with two bottles of Red Kite Ale, John laughed.  
“The chips will be here in five minutes,” Clara announced as she sat back down, “What are you laughing at? Is this not good?”  
John took the bottle from her and made a gesture for her to try it. She did.  
“Oh dear, this is horrendous.”  
“Well, average, I'd say. We'll survive though,” John laughed and Clara was glad he did.  
Their food came and Clara watched as he ate slowly, only speeding up whenever she threatened to steal his chips but when the food was gone and they had finished their drinks Clara knew that it was time.  
“Shall we go?” she asked carefully and John nodded. 

He allowed her to take his hand again and lead him through the side entrance onto the small street where for the first time since they had gotten out of their seats he seemed to take a breath.  
“Do you recognize anything?” Clara asked as they slowly stepped over the cobblestones.  
John shrugged. “It's just the street. I've known it since I was a teenager.”  
“So. . . no memories?”  
“No memories,” he repeated.  
Suddenly the door to the bar opened again and out of the corner of her eye Clara saw that a few men stepped outside, though she didn't pay a lot of attention to them.

“I'm telling you, it _is_ him,” one of the men said.  
“He wouldn't be so bloody daft,” another replied.  
Clara watched as John turned around to look at the group and for the first time she counted them. They were four men, all of them around John's age.  
“What is it?” she asked him carefully.  
“Trouble,” he growled and tightened the grip around her hand. 

“John?” one of the men called out, “John McCailín?”  
“What do you want?” Clara heard John bark at him.  
“McCailín?” she asked him in a hushed voice.  
“My name,” he replied quietly, “Before I changed it.”  
Clara didn't really understand what was happening, only that the four men who had followed them outside were slowly stepping closer.  
“You're awfully brave to come back here, Johnny. After what you did to my wee brother,” one of the man stopped in front of them, crossing his arms in front of his chest.  
Now Clara understood what John had meant by 'trouble'. This was the brother of the man he was said to have killed. And he was taller and broader than John. Instinctively her other hand rose to John's arm.  
“Don't be foolish, Lachlan. I didn't come here to start a fight.”  
“No, you didn't. Wouldn't have brought your daughter along for that.”  
Clara was about to launch forward and say something, but John squeezed her hand, holding her back.  
The man called Lachlan sneered at both of them. “That means you're unprepared.”

The first blow hit John right in his face and he stumbled backwards, letting go off her hand as he did. Clara gasped in horror and before she could react another punch hit John in the stomach, making him squirm with pain. The third blow sent him to the ground and that was when Clara regained control over herself and stepped between John and the other man.  
“Stop it!” she cried out and immediately knelt down next to John.  
“Are you okay?” Clara asked and John nodded slowly, although his face was a grimace of pain.  
“And who's going to stop me?” Lachlan asked mockingly, “A wee lassie like you? I'll have you after I've dealt with this son of a bitch.”  
Clara glared at him, whipping out her mobile phone from the pocket of her jacket.  
“One push of a button calls the police,” she said threateningly, trying to keep her voice calm despite the adrenaline running through her veins, “And until they get here I will scream my lungs out until someone comes for help.”  
The man took another step closer and Clara unlocked her screen, cocking an eyebrow at him. She prayed that he wouldn't see her trembling in fear.  
“Are you willing to risk that? I hear prison is not so nice.”  
Lachlan continued to sneer at her but remained where he was. He seemed to consider her words. Then he spat in front of their feet and turned away. Clara only took a breath when he and the other men had stepped back inside the pub.  
Immediately she turned her attention back to John whose eyes seemed fixed on the apartment block framing one side of the alley.  
“Are you okay?” she asked him again.  
“There was a face,” he replied absent-mindedly, “A boy.”  
Clara looked up to where she assumed John's eyes were fixed on, but she couldn't see anyone.  
“Not now. Then,” he explained and slowly scrambled to his feet, his gaze still attached to a row of windows, “I was on the ground and I saw the face of a boy looking down on me. We need to ask someone who was living there back then.”  
He stumbled towards the entrance of the apartment complex but Clara held him back. “No, there is still time for that tomorrow, before we leave.”  
John turned back towards her, his face so utterly blank that it scared her. “But I remember. There was a boy.”  
“John,” Clara said in a low voice, taking his face in both her hands, “Listen to me. You're in shock. Your ribs might be broken.”  
“They're not.”  
“They _might_ be. Let's take a taxi home and have a look at your wounds.” She gently wiped the blood off his forehead with her thumb, making John hiss in pain and revealing a cut. “I promise we'll come back tomorrow. You won't forgot until then.”  
John took a deep breath. “Okay,” he agreed, finally seeing sense. Then a smile spread across his face.  
“What's so funny?” she wanted to know, still worrying about him.  
“You were amazing,” he smiled, “The way you stood up to Lachlan. Remind me to never make you angry at me.”  
Clara sighed. “I will. Now let's go home. I'm more scared than I let on.”  
She grabbed John's arm and they started walking towards the main street to find a taxi, the shock of what had happened only slowly wearing off. But even though the evening had turned out differently than expected, at least it hadn't been for nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for the amazing comments :) You are the best readers ever :-*


	25. Chapter 25

Clara led him to sit on the bed and switched the light on before she came back to inspect the cut on his forehead.  
“Ouch,” John hissed as she touched the area around it.  
“Sorry,” Clara apologized quickly, “Let me just clean it and get a plaster, okay?”  
“It's all in the bathroom, behind the mirror,” he told her.  
Clara nodded and vanished, returning a minute later with some cotton balls, a bottle of antiseptic and a box of plasters.  
“Okay, this is probably gonna sting a little. Close your eyes,” she told him and he hissed again when she sprayed the antiseptic on his wound. Sting _a little_ was a big understatement.  
“Almost done,” Clara said in a low, calming voice as she cleaned the cut, ignoring that he flinched under her touch. A few seconds later he felt her place the plaster on it, “There. Good as new.”  
John opened his eyes to see her smile at him. She raised her hand to his cheek and caressed it softly and John could do nothing but stare at her.  
“Promise me you'll let me take care of you,” she whispered.  
He smiled back at her. “I'm fine, Clara. Really, no need to worry. I've been in fights worse than that.”  
“Promise me,” she insisted.  
John cleared his throat. “Alright, I promise.”  
Clara nodded and her hands found the first button of his shirt and started opening it.  
“Wh-what are you doing?” he asked nervously, stammering, suddenly insecure about the way she was touching him.  
“I'm gonna take a look at your ribs,” she explained and gently pushed his shirt down his shoulders, exposing his chest.  
“I told you, nothing's broken,” he couldn't help but tremble as Clara went down on her knees in front of him and softly touched the skin around his hurt rib.  
“Does it hurt?” she asked innocently as she placed her hands on his thighs and looked up at him.  
If Clara was doing this on purpose she was doing a very good job at unsettling him. Her position, her sweet voice, her hands that were slowly digging into the fabric of his trousers – all of that sent his mind racing. He gulped audibly.  
“A little,” John replied reluctantly, his voice oddly strained.  
Clara smiled before she bent forward and placed a kiss on his bruise, her hands wandering further up his thighs. John exhaled sharply, trying to keep his breathing under control. He expected her to stop at that, but instead her mouth moved further up, covering his chest in kisses and John unwillingly leaned back, a moan escaping his throat when one of her hands brushed against his member through the fabric of his trousers.  
Suddenly Clara stopped and rose from her position and a moment later she was sitting on his lap, her lips on his throat and her arms slung around his back, she pressed herself mercilessly against his crotch. It was as if all the blood had left his brain at once, along with every remaining coherent thought. God, he wanted her so much.  
“Damn you, Clara,” he muttered as his hands cupped her head and pulled her up until their lips met, intending to kiss the breath out of her, but it was John who soon found himself panting and in need of air. He paused their kiss, staring right at her.  
“Clara-”  
Clara’s finger replaced her lips in a gentle movement and she shushed him in a low voice.  
“Don’t talk,” she whispered, her own face inches from his, “Just sit back and let me take care of you.”

John knew that he was lost when she bent back down, her lips engulfing his in a longing kiss, her tongue brushing ever so delicately over his that he moaned into her mouth. He wanted her so much and he was so ready, his manhood already hardenening and pressing against the fabric of his jeans. He never even stood a chance.  
Suddenly Clara rose from his lap and came to a halt in front of him. Reaching for the hemline of her skirt, she pulled her dress up over her head and threw it on the floor. Her hands anchored in her tights and rolled them down, leaving her legs completely bare. Reaching behind her back, Clara swiftly unhooked her bra, sending it tumbling towards the floor to join the rest of her clothing. For a moment she stopped, standing straight, as if she wanted him to see her, admire her like she was. Her hair was wonderfully messy, framing her face and ending in slight curls on her shoulders. Her breasts were small, but beautifully so, melting into her ribcage over her flat tummy that ended with the seam of her white lace knickers that somehow revealed more than they veiled. Clara was perfect, every inch of her was utter perfection in his eyes and John sank from the bed, landing on his knees in front of her. He was completely enthralled by her. Right now she was a queen to him, a miracle, a wonder to be worshipped. Clara giving herself to him was so much more than he could have ever hoped for and he wanted to make her feel everything that he was feeling for her. 

John closed his arms around her, his hands coming to rest on the cheeks of her small arse that he pinched gently, causing Clara to giggle. He pressed his face to the centre of her stomach, kissing it. She was so soft, every part of her was soft and he wanted to kiss and caress ever single inch of her skin.  
Trailing kisses down her stomach, John stopped only at the waistband of her knickers, hooking his fingers in it, he pulled them down swiftly. As his kisses continued, he could feel Clara shiver beneath his caress and bend her hips to meet him. When his mouth cupped her lips Clara raised her hands to rest on his shoulders and he slid his tongue between her folds that were already wet with want for him. The thought of that and the moan of relief that came from her throat made his cock twitch in anticipation. He was so hard now, so painfully hard, and he was aching to be let inside her. But now was not the time, he reminded himself, as his tongue continued to explore her clit, playfully running along the folds, circling occasionally, dipping the tip into her entrance. Clara gasped whenever he came close to the spot that got her off and pressed herself harder against his face. John tried to map her out with his tongue, tried to remember every movement that made her moan, every spot that he touched that provoked a reaction from her. Soon she was writhing against him wantonly, panting and moaning at the same time, whispering his name like a prayer and he lapped at her, digging his tongue deeper inside until she buried her nails into his shoulders and murmured his name.  
“Oh God, John,” she panted heavily, moaning in sheer pleasure, “Do that again.”  
He obliged happily, pushing towards her entrance and burying his tongue in her as deep as he could with Clara countering his moves, pushing her hips against him until he could feel her clench her muscles in climax and her juices came flowing over his tongue. She moaned his name as she came, her legs shaking with the power of her orgasm, and he held her tight to keep her on her feet.

“That was,” she paused, still out of breath and pulled him up to face her, “You were. . .”  
Clara never finished her sentence because John covered her lips with his own moments later, kissing her deeply, his hands trying to anchor in her hair to keep her close whenever she tried to escape to catch her breath.  
John felt himself falling backwards as she pushed him and Clara landed on top of him on the bed, but he didn't want to let go. He wanted to drown in her kiss and never again come back to the surface of reality. Eventually she managed to pull away from him, sitting up, straddling his lap and still panting desperately. She was moving her hips against the hardness beneath his jeans and John moaned in frustration, the friction almost too much to bear. He was out of practice, he wouldn't last if she kept that going. Luckily Clara seemed to have heard his silent plea, as she quickly busied herself with opening his trousers and pulled them, and his pants, down in one movement, revealing his already throbbing erection. She smiled at the sight of it, giving him a mischievous grin before she sat on his lap again. The heat of her wetness was so close it almost drove him wild. He wanted, no, he _needed_ to be inside her. Her hands here scraping over his chest, careful around the ribs that were hurting, but his pain seemed so far away now, as if it had happened in another lifetime. All that mattered was him and her and how much he wanted Clara.

She looked at him and he gulped audibly, mesmerized by her and yet at the same time scared because it had been so, so long. He had almost forgotten how good it felt to be touched by a woman. Clara reached for him with a skilled hand, stroking him gently and John hissed at the contact with her warm fingers that left his skin tingling. It felt so good, so damn good and he wanted her so much that the wait was almost unbearable. Finally she grabbed him at the base, holding him in position before she slowly lowered herself on top of him and he sank into her. As soon as his tip had entered her wet heat, John closed his eyes, and he needed all his self control not to thrust inside her as hard as he could. Clara uttered a small noise that brought him back to reality.  
“Are you okay?” his eyes shot open again and he looked at her.  
“Yeah,” Clara replied breathlessly as she remained still around him.  
“Are you sure?” He wanted her to continue, but not if she was in any way uncomfortable.  
“Absolutely,” she breathed, “Just need to start slowly.”  
Then she started moving on top of him and John let his head fall back into the pillows, groaning as she was sliding up and down his shaft. He wanted more, so much more. He wanted to take her by the hips and slam her down on his cock, but he tried his best to hold back, leaving it to Clara to direct the rhythm and instead he reached up and found her breasts, cupping and squeezing them gently. They were just as soft as the rest of her under his touch.  
“Clara,” he muttered her name under his ragged breaths.  
He couldn't help it, his body was beginning to refuse control and his hips were moving upwards to meet her, pushing deeper inside of her, causing Clara to moan on top of him.  
“Sorry,” he said immediately, trying to pace himself, but, God, it felt so good, he couldn't stop himself from wanting more.  
“No,” Clara panted, “Go on. I want. . .” Another moan escaped her lips, deeper now and full of pleasure. “Please, go on.”  
He thrust up, burying himself in her and he heard her gasp as his hands wandered to her hips and they were slowly picking up pace. John managed to open his eyes for a second, the sight of her on top of him almost pushing him over the edge right away. She was riding him hard, her breasts glistening with sweat and her head was thrown back and forth in their rhythm. Clara's face was flushed, glowing with the exercise. She looked down and their eyes met for a moment. He smiled at her and she smiled back as she continued to drive herself down on him. John's hand slid down her stomach and his thumb found her clit, rubbing and circling in her wetness as coordinated as he could. He tried to focus on her, diverting the attention from his own arousal. He was so close, so damn close to the point of no return, but so was she, writhing on top of him, keening and muttering his name under her breath, he'd be damned if he couldn't drag her with him over the edge. He heard her gasp moments before her muscles clenched and tightened around his member and she drove herself down hard and fervently and it became too much for him to hold back. He thrust up one last time before his movements sagged and he felt his orgasm shoot through him like a shockwave. He groaned loudly as he spilled himself inside of her.

“Clara,” he whispered breathlessly as she lifted herself up and sank into the pillow next to him. He wanted to tell her that he loved her, but he couldn't find the voice to say anything at all.  
Instead he pulled her in for a sloppy kiss, her lips almost burning on his own.  
“Are you okay?” he asked once their lips parted, “I didn't hurt you, did I?”  
“Shush,” she said, still panting but smiling at him, “Shut up, okay? I'm fine. More than fine.”  
Clara took a number of breaths, but ended up laughing. “God, you were amazing!” she exclaimed breathlessly.  
“No,” John corrected her, looking at her, “ _You_ were.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments :D Now, let's hear what you think of this one ;)


	26. Chapter 26

When Clara woke up she was sure. One-hundred percent sure. She smiled as she laid her eyes on John who was still sleeping peacefully next to her and she knew she wanted to wake up like this every morning from now on, next to the man she was so utterly in love with that she could hardly believe it. Why had she even waited so long? Hadn't it been clear to her for months?  
Slowly Clara untangled herself from John and began placing kisses on his face, his throat and his chest. He stirred beneath her, humming something in a voice that was still rusty with sleep.  
“Mhh. . . Clara,” he murmured sleepily, “We need to talk.”  
Clara didn't have to guess what he wanted to talk to her about, she already knew and she knew that she would do about anything to prevent that. John wanted to tell her that what they had done was wrong, that she was with Alex, that it could never happen again. But they would not have this talk now.  
“Okay,” Clara said before she dipped her tongue into his navel, “Talk.”  
Her hands were wandering over his thighs and her gaze dropped to his morning glory. With a smirk she slowly let her hands inch closer and John let out a soft, tired moan as her fingers started grazing him.  
“Don't,” he protested weakly, gasping as she wrapped her hands around him, “We should talk.”  
She messaged him softly and he hardened in her hands as her fingers softly brushed over the tip, making John squirm beneath her.  
“You said you wanted to talk,” Clara teased him with a smile, “So talk.”  
She ran her tongue along his length, feeling him twitch under her touch. John made a couple of attempts to speak, but whenever he did Clara tightened her grip and he lost track of what he was going to say. Seeing him so flustered and aroused made her tingle with excitement.  
“Can you. . . _oh_. . . look at me. . . _mhhhh_. . . for a moment?”  
“Of course,” she said matter-of-factly, but then wrapped her lips around his tip and began sucking him into her mouth, her eyes fixed on his.  
John groaned, letting his head fall back into the pillow as his hands anchored in her hair. “Not what I meant,” he replied, panting, but a moment later she heard him laugh.  
Clara let him slide out of her mouth. “Do you surrender?” she asked, giggling. 

A moment later John lifted her up, making Clara squeal in surprise before he flung them both around and pinned her into the sheets. His kiss was fierce and his erection pressed so tightly against her own sex that Clara pushed her hips up to feel more of him. She was itching for him to enter her like he had last night. The memory of it alone was enough to make her moan.  
“Do it, please,” she begged breathlessly when John's lips left hers to kiss and nibble at her throat.  
In response to her plea John let is hand wander over her chest, though it was barely touching her at all, just his fingers vaguely ghosting over her skin in an agonizingly slow speed. When his fingers had finally reached her clit and dipped into her wetness, Clara gasped, grinding herself against them. It wasn't enough. She wanted _him_.  
“Do it,” she keened, writhing beneath him, her whole body begging John to finally enter her, “Now.”  
“God, you're bossy,” he panted with a grin before he locked lips with her again in a passionate kiss.  
And then he finally reached for the base of his shaft and positioned himself at her entrance. Clara pressed her lips together to suppress a moan when he drove insider her. He was big and she needed a moment to adjust around him but when John started moving all of that was forgotten, the pleasure slowly building up inside her.  
“Good?” he asked carefully and she opened her eyes to look at him smiling at her.  
“Yeah,” she breathed and hooked one of her legs around him to allow him in deeper.  
His mouth kept coming back to hers, kissing her sloppily and she buried her hand in his hair. John seemed like everything she had ever wanted. They fit together in every possible way, like two pieces of a puzzle that were made for each other and Clara soon found herself moaning as John was picking up pace.  
She thrust her hips up to meet his rhythm, her hand trying to anchor somewhere on his back, but only digging her nails into his skin. Whimpering, she slowly felt the orgasm build up inside her, sending her into a frenzy, making her beg him to go faster and harder – which he did, until Clara could feel John come inside her with a groan, dragging her along over the edge with the last of his thrusts.  
Gasping for air he sank down, half on top of her, half next to her, sweating and utterly spent. 

Clara turned over and wrapped her arm around him, a gesture that he copied before he placed a kiss on her forehead. She could hear his heartbeat under her ear.  
“Sooner or later,” he panted, “We're going to talk.”  
“Later then,” Clara replied with a smile.  
“Taking your clothes off as a distraction won't be an option as soon as we've left the house,” John reminded her gently.  
Clara giggled. “We'll have to leave the house first.”  
John remained silent for a while and she thoroughly enjoyed resting against his chest, but she soon noticed that he was restless next to her and after a few minutes Clara suggested to get up and make breakfast.  
She rummaged through her bag for some underwear and a plain shirt while John got dressed as well and shortly after they headed into the kitchen where Clara immediately busied herself with the coffee maker.

“Clara,” she heard John say behind her, but she wasn't yet ready for his guilty conscience.  
“Do you want coffee or tea?” Clara asked back nervously, “Or do you wanna go back to that café we went to yesterday?”  
“Alex-”  
“No, I don't want to hear anything about him,” Clara interrupted him, turning around to face John, “He doesn't matter.”  
“Alex is my son.”

The words hung in the air for a long moment and Clara searched for a way, _any way_ that she could have misunderstood him. No matter how hard she tried, her mind just wouldn't accept what John had just said.  
“No,” Clara said quietly, “No. I, erm, I've met his father. I, I know him. I went to his funeral with Alex after he died. You can't be his father.”  
“I am,” John replied, his voice grave as he reached out to take her hand.  
She opened her mouth, intending to say so many things, ask so many questions, but the only word that ever came out was “How?”  
“My friend Sarah is actually called Sarah Jane,” John began, “We've been friends mostly, but there was also a time when we were more than just that. It was a silly love triangle with me, her and – what was his name?”  
“Kenneth,” Clara replied weakly, “His name was Kenneth.”  
She heard John take a deep breath before he continued. “Sarah Jane got pregnant and she told me that the child was mine but that she didn't love me, that she didn't think I was ready, so she decided to raise him with Kenneth. I agreed. I wasn't ready and Sarah Jane and I, we would have never lasted as a couple. I thought there would still be time, that another woman would come along and start a family with me but instead-”  
“Instead you went to prison,” Clara finished his sentence, unable to look at him.  
She tried to think of a word to describe what she was feeling right now, but only the word _'empty'_ came to mind. There was nothing there where she had already started to see her future with John.  
“Was that why you moved to London? To our street? So you could meet him?” Clara found herself asking. For a moment she considered the option that John had only been nice to her to get to Alex, but she knew that it wasn't true, at least not since their first kiss.  
“I wanted to get to know my son, yes,” John admitted, “Falling for you was never planned and it shouldn't have happened. I let it go too far and I'm sorry.”

Suddenly Clara found what was left of her determination and she looked back at John, letting go off his hand and crossing her arms in front of her chest.  
“What do you think is going to happen?” she asked him, sounding angrier than she had intended, “Alex has – _had_ a father. Even though Sarah Jane and him split early, Kenneth was good to Alex. He loved him and I know that Alex misses his father a lot. You can't tell him that his whole life has been a lie, you can't take his father, the one that raised him, away from Alex. It's not fair.”  
“I know that.”  
“So what were you planning to do?” Clara demanded angrily.  
“I thought that maybe he would at least accept me as a friend and neighbour.”  
“That ship has sailed a _long_ time ago, John, and you know that, but what is still possible is you and me. I know that's not what you came to London for, but that's what you've got now. You said falling for me shouldn't have happened, but it did, and I fell for you, too and I do not want some silly excuses to get in the way of that.”  
John groaned in frustration, burying his face in his hands. “I wished you were just someone that happened to live on the same street. I wished you weren't my son's girlfriend. But you are. Alex is the only family I have left apart from Donna, and I have to at least try,” he sighed and looked at her and Clara thought that he looked like he was fighting back tears, “I have to try, Clara. Please, _please_ understand.”

Clara stepped forward and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest to keep him from seeing her tears. John didn't hesitate to close his arms around her.  
“I understand. But I have to ask: is there any way I can make you change your mind?” she asked desperately.  
“No,” he sighed into her hair, “But there is something you can do for me.”  
Clara nuzzled her face against the fabric of his shirt, realizing that she would miss the smell of him for a very long time. “What?”  
“Give Alex a chance,” John said quietly, “He loves you and losing you would probably be the worst thing that could happen to him.”  
She cleared her throat, realizing how broken she sounded all of a sudden, and looked at him. “Would you do something for me, too?”  
“Anything.”  
“Just while we're in Glasgow,” she began, “Let's pretend that everything is fine, that Alex doesn't exist. I want to be with you, even if it's just for a few hours.”  
John's hand wandered to her head, stroking her hair softly. “Is that wise?”  
“No,” Clara replied firmly, “But it's what I want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you soooo much for the comments :) Glad you liked it. And now let's have some heartbreak, shall we? ;)


	27. Chapter 27

Donna called them during breakfast, informing John that she wouldn't make it home in time to catch them. Afterwards Clara managed to coax him to take a shower together, kissing and touching each other and making love again against the shower wall, though this time it seemed to have a bittersweet taste to it.  
“You said you understand,” John panted into her ear, his voice sad and full of regrets.  
“I said I understand,” Clara whispered hoarsely, “I never said I'd make it easy for you.”  
He kissed her again and Clara was glad that the shower water was there to wash away the tears she didn't want John to see.  
While Clara was still drying her hair, John went to clean up the place and pack their things for the journey home and half an hour later they left the house. 

“Do you remember what floor it was?” Clara asked as they climbed the stairs inside the building.  
“4th, I think,” he muttered and shortly after stopped in front of a door, “It should be here.”  
“Well,” Clara said, looking at him, “Only one way to find out.”  
She knocked without warning and a minute later an elderly woman opened the door.  
“Oh,” she uttered in surprise after seeing the two strangers, “Can I help you with something?”  
“We hope so,” Clara said with a polite smile.  
The woman eyed them suspiciously and John hurried to get the words out.  
“Do you remember who lived here about 26 years ago?” he asked.  
“Yes,” the woman replied, still looking a little puzzled, “Me. I've been living here for over 30 years. Why do you need to know?”  
Clara watched as John took a deep breath. Instinctively she reached for his hand, holding it in hers.  
“Do you have a son? I know that if you have, he must be over 30 now.”  
The old lady crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I do, in fact, have a son but I don't think that is any of your concern.”  
“I think your son might have seen something that happened here about 26 years ago, the night a man was killed in the street in front of your window. Do you remember that?” John asked her carefully.  
“It's really important,” Clara urged her, “If there is even the slightest chance that your son saw something, we would like to speak with him, ask him what he remembers.”  
The lady snorted. “My son was only 8 years old then. He should have been in bed,” she paused, “But. . . I sometimes caught him staring out of the window in the evenings. I scolded him whenever he did that past his bedtime. I asked him if he had seen anything the next day when it was all over the newspapers but he said he had been asleep. I don't know if he lied to stay out of trouble. I can't tell you that.”  
“Would you maybe give us his phone number?” John raised his eyebrows hopefully, “I just need to ask him. If he really saw nothing I won't bother him or you ever again, but if he did I would like to know what he saw. Is that okay with you?”  
The woman nodded and vanished within her flat only to re-emerge a few moments later with a small note that had a phone number written on it. She held it out to John, but quickly pulled her hand back.  
“I don't understand why you need to speak to him. They caught the man that did it,” the woman said hesitantly.  
“It's personal,” Clara explained to her, “The man who died that night, he was a friend. We just want to know what really happened.”  
She felt John squeeze her hand a little tighter and she understood it as a thank you for being here with him, for speaking when he was lost for words.  
Finally the woman handed the note to Clara, smiling weakly. “Then I hope you find what you're looking for,” she said.  
“Thank you,” Clara replied kindly.  
John only nodded, a grateful but weak smile on his lips.

“Thank _you_ ,” John said to Clara after they had left the building. He closed his arms around her in a tight embrace and kissed her hair, “I couldn't have done this without you. What you've done for me I can never repay.”  
“You could try,” she whispered, tightening her grip around his chest, “You could start with not letting me go.”  
“Clara,” he sighed heavily, swaying her in their hug.

She remained silent as they walked back to the main street and took a taxi to fetch their bags and bring them to the train station. Clara refused his offer to have lunch before they left, not feeling particularly hungry. John kissed her again in the taxi and on the platform and once again after they had taken their seats and she was starting to regret asking him to pretend that everything was fine. With every time their lips touched she knew she would only miss him more when the kisses stopped. She rested her head against his arm, holding his hand throughout the entire ride home, drifting in and out of sleep and fighting back tears. Clara vowed not to cry. Not in front of John. It would only make him feel worse and that was the last thing that Clara wanted. 

 

* * *

 

John hated to wake her when they arrived in London. She looked so sad but peaceful in her sleep, so he only nudged her gently.  
“Clara, we're there,” he said softly.  
She stirred next to him before she blinked at him through tired eyes and nodded. John drove them both home in his van, the music on the radio playing over the silence.  
“You'll tell me when you've called him, yeah?” Clara asked when he pulled onto their street, “I want to know what he remembers.”  
“ _If_ he remembers anything,” John tried not to get his hopes up too much, “Yes, you'll be the first person to know.”  
He gave her a weak smile, but Clara's features didn't change one bit.  
“Maybe it's better if we don't see each other for a few days,” Clara suggested, turning her face towards her feet, “You can call me when you've talked to him, but. . .” she paused, “Just for a couple of days.”  
“Okay,” John agreed, “I think that's a good idea.”

They didn't hug or kiss goodbye this time and Clara simply grabbed her bag and walked across the street to her house, to be with Alex, like he had told her she should. John waited, but she didn't turn around.  
As soon as he stepped inside his house he kicked his foot hard against the wall, cursing as the pain shot through his toe. He cursed everything. He cursed London, he cursed Glasgow, he cursed the fact that Alex was his son and that he had had to fall in love with Clara. It wasn't fair, none of it was even remotely fair. There were only two things he wanted in his life – and he could only have one or the other. If he decided to be with Clara, John would never be able to have any kind of relationship with Alex. And now that he had chosen that he wanted to get to know his son, Clara was forever off limits. Out of every woman in London it had to be her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments. I'm gonna hand out some tissues and cookies now, okay?


	28. Chapter 28

When she closed the door behind her Clara was finally free to cry. She had done her best to hold back her tears while she had been with John and now all of that came out at once. Clara pulled her phone from her pocket and searched for Amy's number, hardly able to see a thing through her blurring sight.  
“Amy?” she sobbed into her phone, “Could you come over? Please?”  
“Is everything alright?” her friend asked immediately.  
“No,” Clara admitted, wiping her nose, “Please, just come over.”  
“Okay, I'll be there in a few minutes.”

Clara left the door unlocked, dragged herself into the bedroom and sat on the bed. She couldn't tell how long she waited, but soon Amy entered the bedroom and, upon seeing her friend crying, she immediately placed her arms around her.  
“What happened?” Amy asked immediately.  
“I love him,” Clara sobbed, “I love John. I wanted to be with him. I had made my decision.”  
“And?”  
“He said he fell for me. And he said he can't be with me because,” another sob interrupted her sentence, “He's Alex' father.”  
“ _What?!_ ” Amy half yelled at her before she turned to the bedside table and handed Clara some tissues.  
“Thanks,” she muttered before blowing her nose in one of them, “John had a thing with Alex' mum and apparently he's his father.”  
“Oh.”  
“Yes – _oh_!” Clara looked at her friend, “What do I do now?”  
“Oh Clara,” Amy sighed and hugged her again, a little tighter this time, rocking them both back and forth, “I have no idea.”  
“I really love him,” she whispered into her friend's shoulder.  
“Then you have to fight for him,” Amy suggested, “Don't give up. He's a _man_. Just work some of your womanly magic and he'll come around.”  
“If I do that, Alex will hate him. I can't do that to John. He deserves a chance with his son.”  
“Well,” Amy paused, “Tell him you can have a son _together_. If he wants a family, better do it properly.”  
Clara started to laugh through her tears. “Amy!”  
“If he loves you, too, of which I am sure he does, not all is lost just yet,” her friend said calmingly.

Suddenly they heard the front door open and Alex' voice rang through the silence, announcing that he was back home.  
“Oh my God,” Clara realized in horror, “It's Alex. I can't see him now!”  
“What do you want _me_ to do about that? He _lives_ here. He's still your _boyfriend_.”  
“Just,” Clara paused, wrecking her brain for an excuse despite her sudden panic, “Just tell him I've got the stomach flu and not to come inside!”  
“What about me if you're supposed to be contagious?” Amy asked, puzzled.  
“You already had it. Now go and tell him!”

After a few moments Amy was back and Clara was so glad that she seemed to have convinced Alex to stay outside. Clara crawled under the blankets and rested her head on the pillow and Amy lay down next to her, smiling sympathetically.  
“Are you gonna break up with him?” she asked in a low voice after a moment.  
“I don't know,” Clara admitted, “I promised John I'd give him a chance. Maybe we'll work out now that John isn't a possibility anymore.”  
“I seriously hope you don't believe that. Clara, if you're in love with someone else, it can't work.”  
“I don't know. I need time. It's all so crazy. Right now I just want to sleep, I just want to cry and. . . I just want John.”  
The tears came back as soon as she thought about the way he had always held her, like his arms could protect her from anything.  
“I had been looking forward to it,” Clara admitted weakly, “When I woke up next to him I thought _'Yes, that's it. That's what I want for the rest of my life.'_ He is perfect to me in every single way. How am I ever supposed to get over that?”  
“Hey, how about I ring up Martha and ask her to get you a sick note for a couple of days? So you don't have to see him at work tomorrow.”  
“Thank you,” Clara muttered and closed her eyes.

It was probably a good idea, Clara thought after Amy had left. In her current state she was likely to either break out in tears or grab John by the lapels of his coat and kiss him the next time she saw him and both options seemed like inappropriate behaviour for a school. She managed to get up and unpack her bag and to her surprise she found one of John's shirts in it. Clara thought it must have accidentally landed there when she had undressed him on their first night together. His smell still clung to it and Clara breathed it in deeply. She was missing him too much already and right now she couldn't imagine how it was ever going to get better. Knowing that it was the closest she would ever come to him again, she wrapped herself in his shirt, and his smell, before she went back to bed.  
Clara attempted to sleep but a short while later there was a knock on the bedroom door.  
“Don't come in,” she replied, “I'm contagious.”  
Still Alex cracked the door open. Clara turned her back on him.  
“Amy said you were sick,” Alex said as if he didn't really believe it, “Is everything alright?”  
“No, I just want to sleep,” she grumbled in reply.  
“Can I get you anything? Tea? Water? Soup? Draw you a bath?”  
More tears rolled down her cheek. Alex was being so nice and all Clara wanted was for him to go away. Yet she noticed that she was indeed hungry after only having eaten breakfast today.  
“Soup sounds nice.”  
“Okay, bowl of soup coming right up,” Alex paused and sighed, “Are you sure that there is nothing else? Just a stomach flu?”  
“Just a stomach flu,” Clara lied.

 

* * *

 

After calling the school the next morning Clara prepared herself a cup of tea and went right back to bed with every intention of sleeping through the day. but at noon the ringing of her phone woke her up again. She answered it without checking the caller ID first.  
“Yeah?” she croaked.  
“You're not at school. Is everything okay?”  
John's voice made her heart skip a beat and immediately she sat up in her bed.  
“John,” Clara uttered, but was unable to say anything else.  
“I overheard some teachers talking that you called in sick. I was worried. Is everything alright with you?”  
“Yeah,” she lied, “Just a stomach bug. Started last night. I thought I'd better stay home before I give it to anyone else.”  
“Oh,” John mumbled, “Okay, well, do you need anything? I could bring it to you after work.”  
“No, you don't have to,” Clara replied. She couldn't see him, not now, “Alex is taking care of me.”  
There was a long silence on the other end of the line and Clara was beginning to regret her last statement.  
“Did you call the number the lady gave you?” she asked to change the topic.  
“I, erm, I did. Voicemail. Something about a business trip and back next week. I will try again.”  
“Good,” Clara said, desperate to end this conversation while at the same time fighting the urge to ask John to come over and lie down next to her.  
“Clara-”  
“We should hang up,” she interrupted him before he had the chance say anything that could possibly hurt her even more, “I want to go back to sleep if you don't mind.”  
“Okay. I hope you feel better soon,” John said kindly.  
“So do I.”

Clara tapped the red button on her screen before he could say goodbye. She hated this. She hated lying to everyone and above all she hated that she was missing John so much. But life, as they say, goes on.

 

* * *

 

Just when John had settled down on the sofa to have dinner a knock on the door interrupted him. With a groan he dropped the slice of pizza back into the carton and went to open the door, only to find Alex standing in front of it. The expression on his face was ice cold and John wasn't sure whether he should be happy or anxious about a visit from his son.  
“Hi,” Alex greeted him coldly.  
“Hey, uhm, what can I do for you?”  
“I want to talk about Clara,” he confessed, “I need your advice.”

As much as John had wished for a relationship with his son, he knew that this conversation would probably not be pleasant and it was definitely not what he had wanted.  
“I'm not sure how I could help you,” John spluttered, “You're her boyfriend, I'm just a friend.”  
“To me it seems as if you are her _best friend_ ,” he said and the grudge he was holding against John for that was terribly obvious, “I've been away for the weekend and when I came back I had the feeling that Clara was hiding from me. Amy said she was sick, but I don't think she is. Do you have any idea what is going on?”  
For a moment John didn't know what do reply.  
“I'm not asking you because I'm trying to threaten you again,” Alex said, sounding quite sincere, “I'm not trying to get you to back off my girlfriend, although I am, but right now I really just want to know what is going on in her mind.”  
“I don't know what to tell you, Alex,” John replied with a slight shrug, “She is _your_ girlfriend.”  
Alex huffed, an ironic smile on his lips to hide the sadness. “It doesn't really feel like that at the moment. Every day when I come home from work I feel like I'm going to find her with her bags packed, ready to leave me.”  
“You should really talk to Cla-”  
“I can't hold her,” Alex admitted with a sad smile, “I don't know how to. It seems like every time we talk we just end up making it worse. How do _you_ do it? How do _you_ talk to Clara?”  
John took a deep breath. “If it's any consolation, I called her from work today. She told me the same thing she told you. My guess is that she really is sick.”  
Right now John didn't believe a word of that himself, but what else could he tell Alex?  
His son sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot.”

Alex turned around without saying another word, leaving John quite puzzled and wondering if Clara was truly alright like she had said she was and he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he had made the wrong decision after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the sweet comments :)))


	29. Chapter 29

“Clara?” Alex' voice followed a careful knock on her bedroom door, “How are you feeling today?”  
Clara put down the book she had been reading and looked at Alex, noticing that he seemed kind of worried. He took a step into the room, but she stopped him with a hand gesture and a weak smile.  
“Better, but probably still contagious,” she lied, “How was work?”  
Alex shrugged. “Not so good. But I managed to set a date for a reconciliation attempt with Missy. Do you think you'll feel better on Friday?”  
“ _Me?_ ” Clara blurted out, “Why me?”  
“Because I need you to be there. It's just some talk over dinner. We'll both say we're sorry and suggest to settle it like adults. Nothing more.”  
“I'm not talking to that woman ever again, Alex!”  
That was really the last thing Clara needed right now, especially since the whole event was absolutely connected with John and she couldn't pretend to be fine about him at the moment.  
“Clara, please, I am lucky that Missy finally agreed to this and it's an actual chance for me to keep my current position if this dinner is successful. I _need_ you there.”  
“No!”  
Alex took a deep breath and Clara could clearly see that he was trying very hard to swallow his anger, but she didn't care.  
“You got me into this mess and you will help me fix it,” he said determinedly.  
“I got you into this mess and you forgave me, remember?”  
“Like you forgave me about the house?” Alex cocked an eyebrow at her.  
Before Clara had the time to open her mouth and speak Alex had turned around and left the room. Clara groaned, threw her blanket aside after a moment of consideration and followed him into the living room.

“Alex, I'm sorry,” Clara apologized quickly, “I know I messed it up. I'll come to the dinner with you if that's what you want.”  
“Yes,” Alex sighed and suddenly, to Clara's surprise, he raised his voice, “But it's not what _you_ want. We should be a team. We should solve a problem like this together without hesitating, yet I feel like you are leaving me alone in this. And you seem to hide your problems from me as well. I know that something is up with you that you're not telling me about and, quite frankly, it scares me.”  
Clara shuffled her feet nervously. A part of her wanted to tell him, quit the lying and tell him the truth, but then she would rob John of his last chance at having any kind of relationship with his son.  
“Clara, I need to ask you a question,” Alex announced gravely, “And I would like an honest answer. I think I deserve at least that. Do you still want to be with me?”  
“Alex-”  
“An _honest_ answer, please. Would you rather break up with me? Because if that's what you want, then I should know.”  
“I considered it,” Clara admitted weakly. She was about to start crying again. She could feel the tears coming already, “But I made my decision. I'm going to stay.”  
“I don't think you have, Clara,” he looked at her and his sad eyes made Clara's stomach twist. She realized just how much she was hurting him, but what could she do about that?  
“I am staying with you,” she repeated, her voice trembling, and she started to cry again because she was hurting the man she had loved and been with for so many years and now she couldn't even bring herself to be honest with him. Alex deserved so much better than her, so much better than this and yet all Clara could think about was how much she would rather be with John. Her own thoughts were beginning to make her sick.  
“You know I love you,” Alex said sincerely and Clara just started shaking her head frantically.  
“Please, stop talking,” she begged him, sniffing.  
“No, I won't, because I need you to know that I'd give about anything to fix this if I only knew what I'm doing wrong!”  
The nausea was rising up inside her, she could feel the disgust over her own thoughts and actions eating its way through her body like acid.  
“You've done nothing wrong, Alex, nothing!” Clara didn't meant to shout, the words just came out this way.  
“Then what is wrong with us, Clara? Please, just tell me!”  
Clara darted into the bathroom when she felt she could no longer hold it back. She bent down over the toilet and after she had thrown up she sank down on the bathroom floor, leaning against the wall. When Alex appeared in the door way, all she could think about was that now he would definitely believe her to be sick.  
“Clara,” he began softly as he sat down next to her. Alex gently placed his arm around her and Clara was so grateful for that, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I pushed you. I shouldn't have.”  
She only nodded and rested her head against his shoulder.  
“You should go back to bed,” he suggested, “I'll get you anything you want. If you want to be alone, I'll leave you.”  
“No, it's okay,” she whispered, “Can we just forget about the fight for now and watch a movie together or something like that?”  
“Absolutely,” Alex agreed.

 

* * *

 

The next day Clara was definitely fed up with staying in bed, so after finally having a normal breakfast again she headed over to Amy's house.  
“I'm bored,” she complained as soon as her friend opened the door, “I can't sit around any longer.”  
“That was quick,” Amy raised her eyebrow when Clara walked inside the house, “Are you sure you're okay?”  
“Yes,” Clara said determinedly, almost believing it herself now after having thought about it almost all night, “Alex is a wonderful man and a great boyfriend and he deserves another chance, so I'm gonna be a good girlfriend and stop crying about other men.”  
“Wow,” Amy uttered, “You have truly perfected the art of lying to yourself.”  
“I'm not lying to myself, Amy. I love John and I still care a great deal about Alex. And since a relationship with John is out of the question now I owe it to Alex to make an honest attempt. Now, be a good friend and help me distract myself from the rest.”  
Amy sighed. “Rory wants me to pick a colour for the nursery. You could help with that?”  
Clara raised her eyebrows. “The nursery? You're _already_ setting up the nursery?”  
Her friend shrugged. “I said I wouldn't have him do or buy anything as long as I'm still in my first trimester – which ends next month. You know Rory and how enthusiastic he is.”  
Amy rolled her eyes but Clara only laughed. For a moment she wondered what John would be like as a soon-to-be-father, but quickly brushed the thought aside. John would probably be even worse.  
“Well, I think that's very sweet,” Clara finally said to make her thoughts stop, “Little Clara Martha should have a nicely planned room. How is she doing by the way?”  
“He or she was doing fine until you threatened him or her with that name again.”  
“You probably haven't thought of a name yet, so there's still a chance for Clara Martha.”  
“Actually,” Amy said, “Rory and I came across this cute name a few days ago and we both agreed that if it's a girl we'll definitely consider naming her Melody.”  
“Okay, I admit that sounds slightly better than Clara Martha.”  
“How nice of you to admit that,” Amy said, laughing and shoving paint samples in front of Clara's face, “Now pick a colour for me!”  
Clara blew the air out between her lips and stared at the samples for a moment. “Aren't they all the same?”  
“That is exactly what I told Rory. I see no difference. They're all beige to me,” Amy complained.  
“Are you really going to let Rory set up the nursery on his own? I'm surely not an expert on your husband, but wouldn't you rather leave this to someone who actually knows what he's doing?” Clara asked carefully.  
A mischievous smile appeared on Amy face. “You mean someone like John?”  
“I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping.”  
“We'll consider it. After all, it's always a bit of a commute for Brian, but Clara-”  
“Mh?” she looked up at her friend and immediately knew what was coming.  
“Forget Alex. Go for John.”  
“I told you I-”  
“No,” Amy insisted, “Forget the excuses. You want to be with him and you know it.”  
“Sadly it's not just about what I want,” Clara admitted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the sweet comments :)


	30. Chapter 30

Clara nervously tapped her finger on the table and straightened the skirt of her dress, waiting for Missy to finally show up so she could get this very unpleasant evening over with.  
“Can you please stop that?” Alex hissed and Clara watched him suddenly raise his head towards the door.  
Missy had just entered the restaurant and spotted them and Clara automatically straightened her back to look taller. It was just an apology, just a little bit of smalltalk and then they could go back home.  
Missy greeted them coldly and sat down at their table, her arms crossed in front of her chest. Clara tried her best to look friendly and smile at her, but she knew how forced it must look on her.

“Thank you so much for agreeing to come to this dinner,” Alex said sincerely as he handed her the wine menu, “We really appreciate it.”  
Missy raised an eyebrow, particularly at Clara. She nervously looked away.  
“We are terribly sorry for what happened at the party.”  
“And the Christmas ball,” Clara added quickly.  
Alex turned his head towards Clara, seeming slightly puzzled. “Why? What happened at the Christmas ball?”  
Clara hesitantly opened her mouth, but Missy was much faster.  
“Your girlfriend called me a _bitch_ ,” she said plainly.  
“Clara!”  
“Hey, I said I was sorry,” she spat, “What more do you want?”  
Alex groaned and turned his attention back to Missy. “I am really sorry for this, Missy, you can't imagine how much. And I do hope that you believe me when I say I had no idea that the man Clara wanted to set up at the party had been to prison. I was just as surprised as you were, maybe even more.”  
“The set up was a charade,” Missy said angrily, “I don't know why you invited me except to insult me, but your girlfriend made pretty damn sure that nothing would happen.”  
Clara sank a little lower into her chair.  
“We talked about that,” Alex explained, “It was all just a big misunderstanding.”  
“No, it wasn't,” she said plainly, “Your girlfriend was jealous. She is obviously the type to go for the bad boys, Alex, I'd be worried if I were you.”  
“I am not into bad boys,” Clara protested immediately, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating here, but I am with Alex.”  
“Really?” Missy snorted, “Poor guy. How long do you think he is going to tolerate that you’re in love with another man?”  
Clara glared at Missy and wanted to throw something equally bad back at her, but out of the corner of her eye she could spot Alex and he was already looking very angry.  
“Oh please,” Clara laughed, “Alex knows that that’s not true.”  
She turned back towards her boyfriend. “You know that’s not true, right?”  
Alex didn’t reply, he only exchanged looks between the two arguing women. 

“Ohhhh,” Missy giggled, “So he _did_ notice.”  
“Missy, what is your goal here? Is it not enough that you’re making Alex’ life at work a hell for something that we apologized for? Do you have to stick your evil nose into our private matters as well?” Clara yelled at her.  
“Apology? _That_ is what you call an apology? Please, you weren’t even trying.”  
“Missy,” Alex’ voice was as sharp as a knife, “Can we please just try to settle this like adults? Clara and I are sorry for the misunderstanding at the party and the argument at the ball.”  
“Oh no, you’re not speaking for me here,” Clara said angrily, turning to Alex, “This woman has some serious issues and I refuse to play nice if she doesn’t.”  
“Clara,” Alex began threateningly, but Clara definitely had enough of him, she had enough of this dinner and she definitely had enough of Missy’s amused sneer.  
“No, Alex,” Missy grinned at both of them, “Don’t you see that your sweet, little girlfriend is only acting like this to cover up the fact that she’s been sleeping with your neighbour?”

Before Clara could think better of it she stood up, reached for the glass of wine that she hadn’t touched so far and emptied it – into Missy’s face.  
“You will stay the hell away from us, from our relationship and you will stop terrorising my boyfriend at work! Do you understand me?!”  
“Clara!” Alex yelled angrily before he reached for a napkin and handed it to Missy.  
Clara didn’t want to wait around for it to get worse. She grabbed her purse and jacket and headed out, getting on the first bus that she saw, not really bothering to look which direction it was even headed.

 

She really needed to clear her head. The dinner had gone anything but well, in fact, Clara was certain it had only made things worse. A part of her blamed Alex for insisting that she had to come, for forcing her to talk to Missy. That woman was a nightmare and had left Clara no other choice except to fight back.  
When she finally arrived at home the light in the living room was already on. Of course Alex had been faster taking the car and now she was slightly scared to step inside. A quick glance over to John’s house showed that he also seemed to be home and Clara would have loved to see him right now. But there was Alex and an argument that needed to be settled.  
“Don’t yell at me,” Clara said in a low voice as she stepped into the living room, “I am sorry. If you want, I will call Missy and apologise.”  
“I am not going to yell,” Alex replied calmly, “And you don’t have to call Missy either. I am done crawling up to that woman. Not that it would make the slightest difference anyway.”  
“What are you going to do now?” Clara asked carefully.  
“ _We_ are going to Seattle,” he said, determination in his voice.  
“What? No, you said there was another option. You said Seattle would be the last resort!” Clara protested.  
“I changed my mind,” he replied coldly, “I want the Seattle job and you said you want to be with me, so be with me in Seattle.”  
“No! I told you I am not leaving my life here! You will find another job, Alex, at another company. It doesn’t have to be Seattle.”  
“But I want it to be Seattle and I want you to come with me,” Alex raised his voice, “The past six months I have done everything I can to please you and nothing has worked and I think that now is the time for you to do something for me.”  
“You can’t force me to just pack up my entire life and move to a different continent!”  
“You’re right, I can’t. Just like you can’t force me to stay and work a job I do not want, so I’m giving us one last chance. If you really, _really_ want to be with me, you can come to Seattle with me. It doesn’t have to be right now. You can stay behind for another month or two until you found a job over there, but I love you and I would love for you to be there with me, but I am done trying to bend everything to your will, especially when you are giving me nothing in return.”

Clara only needed to look at him to know that he meant it and her first thoughts went to John. If Alex left the country, Clara could finally be with him, but he would also lose his son forever. How was she going to break that to him?  
“Clara, what do you think?” Alex asked, his voice now softer again.  
“I don’t know. I need some fresh air,” she replied.  
“That’s okay. You don’t have to answer me right now. It’s a big decision and I want you to think it through. Even I’m not entirely sure yet, but right now this option appeals to me the most.”  
Clara stared at her feet. Her whole life suddenly felt as if it had started to disintegrate, although she realized that that process would have begun months ago. And she felt sorry, so terribly sorry because it had all been entirely her fault.  
“Don’t cry,” Alex said gently.  
“Why not? This sounds pretty final to me,” she wiped away a tear, but more were already coming.  
“It’s not final yet. I still have some hope.”

 

Clara nodded slowly before she turned around and left the house. The fresh air felt soothing on her skin, but it wasn’t what she wanted now. Wiping the tears from her eyes again, she crossed the street and knocked on John’s door.  
“Can I come in?” Clara asked and, upon seeing her cry, he held the door open for her.  
She waited for him to close it, taking a deep breath.  
“What happened?” he asked, but he never got an answer.  
Instead Clara went up on her toes, took his face in both her hands and pulled him down for a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing comments!!!


	31. Chapter 31

John had really meant to push her away, he really had, but it had been almost a week without Clara and he had missed her so terribly and her lips were so inviting despite the salty taste of her tears that he couldn’t help but pull her closer. He didn't know what to do except kiss her back as she pressed him against the wall with the weight of her body, even though his mind screamed at him to hold her back. Clara's hands were sliding across his chest, starting to open the buttons of his shirt when John finally found the heart to stop her.  
“We had an agreement,” he breathed as they parted lips and yet she was doing a very good job at making him forget all about that.  
Clara looked up at him through her tears. “I love you,” she said earnestly, “Forget the agreement. I just want you. I am so unhappy and I just want to be with you.”  
“Clara,” he whispered, pulling her closer and leaning his forehead against hers. Why did she have to make it so hard for him? “I love you, too, but that still doesn't change a thing.”

Clara remained quiet in his arms for a moment and John got the impression that she was beginning to calm down. He had to make her see sense, make her understand that he just couldn't do that to his own son but if she kept coming back to him, if she was as unhappy as she said she was he would give in to her sooner rather than later and he knew it.  
“What if Alex played no role?” Clara asked suddenly.  
“But he does.”  
She looked up at him. “Imagine, just for a moment, that he didn't. That he would never find out about us. Would you be with me?”  
“If you're suggesting that we run away together-”  
“No, it's not that.”  
“You know my answer,” John placed a soft kiss on her forehead, “Of course I'd be with you. But I can't see a way that wouldn't at least hurt one of the people involved.”  
“I know,” Clara replied in a hoarse voice, “But sometimes you just have to do what is best for everyone.”  
She struggled free from his embrace and John only reluctantly let her go. He hated doing this to her, seeing her like that.  
“What are you going to do?” he asked.  
“The best for everyone,” Clara shrugged, “And I'm sorry. I'll talk to you on Monday.”  
She turned around to leave but John held her hand.  
“Don't!”  
She gave him a weak smile. “You don't even know what I'm going to do. Just trust me. It's the best solution, the only one.”  
“What does that mean?” he asked her, suddenly scared of what she was about to do. She wouldn't tell Alex the truth, would she? No, John didn't believe that. But she also knew something she wasn't telling him.  
“Don't worry, John. It'll be fine. I know what I'm doing.”

This time he let her leave, still utterly clueless about what was happening. It would be a very long wait until Monday.

 

* * *

 

Clara stepped back inside the house and took a deep breath. She couldn't help but feel relieved already with the decision she had made and her confidence was slowly returning to her. With a shy smile she stepped into the living room where Alex was still waiting.  
“That was s short walk,” he commented.  
“I know,” she replied, “But we need to talk. No fighting, no blaming, just talking.”  
Alex nodded and scooted over so she could sit on the sofa next to him. Slowly Clara sat down. This was it. She knew it. It wouldn't be easy, but in her opinion it was the best decision for everyone.  
“You want the Seattle job.” It was statement, not a question. “You've wanted it for months. I think you wanted it the first time you flew over. Am I right?”  
He nodded again. “But a job isn't everything in life. I wanted both the job _and_ you. Call me greedy, but that's the truth.”  
“You should take it,” Clara told him, “If it wasn't for me, you'd have taken the job a long time ago. I don't want you to put me before your career because I wouldn't do it for you either. I know that's not right, I know it's not what a relationship should be like, but I would never leave my job here for you. Seattle has always been out of the question for me and I am never going to change my mind about that.”  
“So you want to break up with me,” Alex concluded.  
“I wouldn't call it a break up. I'd say we both realized that we just want different things out of life and,” Clara paused, smiling through her tears, “that we had some wonderful years together, but we need to go our separate ways so we can both be happy.”

It was a lot harder than Clara had imagined it. Maybe it was hard because she knew that it was final and that there was no way back from there. She raised her hand and gently stroked Alex' cheek. He looked as if he was about to start crying as well.  
“I want you to know that you have done absolutely nothing wrong. You were a wonderful boyfriend and you deserve so much more than me,” she sniffed and took a deep breath before she continued, “We are just too different, Alex and I hope that you will find a woman in Seattle who will be everything you want and more because you deserve that. You deserve happiness, but I can't give that to you.”  
“What about you?” he asked, “Will you be happy here?”  
Clara nodded. “Yeah, I think I will. I don't want you to be angry with me. I just think that this is the best option because if we stay together, one of us is going to be unhappy and I don't want to be the one, but I also don't want you to be.”  
“Sadly, I think you're right,” he admitted gravely, “As much as I had hoped that there was a way.”  
“So that's it,” Clara shrugged.  
“I think so, yeah.”

Clara launched forward and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. She felt sad, as it was probably natural after ending a long relationship, but she also knew that she was going to be with John as soon as Alex had left the country. However, how she was going to tell him that, she didn't know yet.  
“Do me a favour, Clara,” Alex whispered into her shoulder, “When you remember us, think about the good times, not the past six months.”  
“Always,” Clara replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your sweet comments :)


	32. Chapter 32

Clara carefully knocked on the door of the caretaker's workshop and stuck her head through the crack.  
“Hey, I brought you some fish & chips from the canteen. Can I come in?” she asked, holding up the plate.  
John put down the chair he had been trying to fix and nodded.  
“On second thought, just leave the food,” he said and Clara looked at him, slightly puzzled until he began to laugh, “I was kidding. Come in.”  
Clara giggled politely and took a deep breath before she sat down on the workbench. She watched as John took the plate from her and starting eating.  
“Is something wrong?” he asked with his mouth full when he noticed her worried look.  
“There is something I need to tell you,” Clara paused, “One part is good news, the other. . . not so much. Which do you want first?”  
“Uhm, the not so good news, I guess?” John looked at her, raising his eyebrows.

She had to tell him. Now.  
“Alex is leaving London,” she confessed, “Today he is talking to his boss about being transferred to Seattle. I'm so sorry, John,” Clara said sincerely, “I really am. I know you wanted to get to know him. I know you wanted a relationship with Alex more than anything in the world, but I told him to take the job.”  
John said nothing in reply. He just sat down next to her, staring into empty space.  
“He _wanted_ the job, he's wanted it for a long time and I was the only thing holding him back. I couldn't stay with Alex, I just couldn't. We broke up on Friday. I'm sorry I ruined your plan to have a relationship with your son, but I really thought that this would be the best solution for everyone.”  
He reached out and took her hand in his and when John looked at her, he had the tiniest smile forming in the corner of his mouth.  
“I guess the good news is that we can be together once he is gone?”  
“That's what I was hoping for,” Clara said, smiling weakly, “If you still want that. And you know, it's not too late yet.”  
“Not too late for what?”  
“For you to be a good father,” Clara said as if it should be obvious, “Well, not right now. Not immediately, but we could do it properly. And you'd be there from the start.”  
For a long moment John did nothing but stare at her as if he was trying to grasp the meaning of her words but failed.  
“John? Tell me. How mad are you?” Clara asked carefully.  
“I, uhm, I thought you didn't want kids?”  
“I never said I didn't want kids. I only said I didn't want them _right now_. Not with Alex because things had been iffy when I thought I was pregnant, but that doesn't mean I'm against children. I think you'd-”  
Clara didn't have the chance to finish her sentence when John suddenly kissed her with a passion that told her he wasn't so mad at her after all. She kissed him back, slinging her arms around his neck as she did when suddenly the door burst open.  
“Mr Smith, I-”

They both jumped apart immediately and Clara turned around to find Courtney Woods, one of her students, standing in the doorway. The girl looked a little shocked at first, but a few seconds later a smile spread on her lips. Clara hated this girl with a passion.  
“Courtney, did no one ever teach you to knock?!” Clara blurted out.  
“Why?” the girl sneered back at her, “You see the most interesting things if you don't.”  
Clara felt like groaning and telling her off, but John was quicker.  
“What do you need, Courtney?” he asked.  
“I need to prepare for my presentation, but the blackboard in Miss Oswald's classroom is jammed. I can't reach the top.”  
“I'll be there in five minutes,” John promised her.  
Courtney vanished back through the doorway, but not without throwing them another sly smile.

“And that was how the whole school found out about us,” Clara commented.  
“Are you sure? Maybe she'll keep it to herself.”  
“It's Courtney Woods,” she replied.  
“Right,” John cleared his throat and then suddenly something seemed to cross his mind, “Listen, Clara, I called the boy this morning. Well, he's a man by now, but you know what I mean. I'm meeting with him after work today to find out what he saw that night. Would you like to come with me?”  
“Sure,” Clara agreed immediately, “I want to come. Meet you at the car?”  
John smiled at her before he bent down to kiss her again, a little more chaste this time in case another student walked in, although Clara didn't think it would make a difference now anyway. 

“But Clara,” he said once their lips had parted, “I think that we should try to be less. . . obvious. At least for the time being.”  
She nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Better not take any risks.”

When she headed back to her classroom after her lunch break, she found Courtney and the rest of the class grinning broadly at her. Of course that girl had told everyone.  
“So, Courtney, let's hear your presentation about Oscar Wilde,” Clara began after the ringing of the bell.  
That smirk still on her face, Courtney stood up and walked to the front of the class. When she turned one side of the blackboard over, Clara spotted with relief that it was full of notes about Wilde. However when she turned over the other side, she read in huge letters: _Ozzie loves the Scottie_.  
Clara cleared her throat, deciding not to be humiliated by the suddenly cheering classroom.  
“I think you missed a bit,” Clara said with a smile as she got up and reached for a piece of chalk, drawing little hearts over the 'i' in 'Ozzie' and 'Scottie', “There, that's better.”  
The class laughed a little more.  
“Alright, now everyone be quiet,” she told them as she sat back down, “I think Courtney knows a few things about Oscar Wilde that she wants to tell us.”

 

* * *

“Are you alright?” Clara asked him as he stood next to his car, looking at the house in front of them. It was a nice little home on a quiet street in Sevenoaks, just an hour outside of London and John had grown increasingly nervous on their way here.  
“I'm not sure,” he replied.  
“Well,” she said, “If you want to know the truth about what happened 26 years ago, the answer is probably behind that very door.”  
“Yes, you're probably right.”  
He held out his hand and Clara took it and together they stepped towards the door. It opened before they even had the chance to ring the bell.  
“You must be John Smith,” a man in his mid 30s greeted them with a friendly smile.  
“And I suppose you're Mr Farley. I hope you didn't mind that I brought some emotional support along,” John said, pointing at Clara.  
“Hi, I'm Clara Oswald,” she greeted the man and shook his hand before he invited them both inside. 

John sat down at the dinner table, not letting go off Clara's hand.  
“You said you wanted to talk about what I saw the night this guy got killed on my street?” Mr Farley asked.  
“Yes,” John said, clearing his throat, “I want to be absolutely honest with you. I was the other man involved in the fight during which my friend died. I suffered a trauma to the head and I remember nothing of that night. I want to know what happened. I've been to prison for 25 years, not remembering what it was that I had done. I need answers.”  
Mr Farley frowned and for a very long moment he said nothing at all.  
“You were at the window,” John said, “I remember seeing a boy. But that's all.”  
“Yes, I was. I,” he paused, “I liked watching the gang, imagining that one day I could be one of them or that they'd take care of my bullies.”  
“What gang?”  
He shrugged. “I don't know, just a gang. I was a boy, I didn't know what it was about. Just that around the time of the incident there was a gang hanging out behind the bar. You said you were there with a friend? And he was killed?”  
John nodded and swallowed hard.  
“They killed your friend, probably. I, erm, I remember two men coming out of the bar, arguing and they surprised the gang. It all went down very quickly. I don't remember much. But they attacked you. It was over in a heartbeat.”

He wasn't quite sure if he was hearing the young man correctly and it was Clara's voice, calling his name, that brought him back to reality.  
“John,” she squeezed his hand, “That means maybe you didn't do it after all.”  
“Tell me more. Tell me everything you remember,” John ordered the man.  
He shrugged again. “I don't remember much more. They left you there. They never came back after that. I know I should have said something back then, I should have called an ambulance, but I was a scared little boy. It was years before I realized I should have told someone. I lied to my mother as well. She always got mad when I was out of bed at that hour.”

John wasn't entirely sure what a shock felt like, but this would have to be quite close. The things the man said wouldn't make sense. He had always thought there must have been a reason for him to have attacked and killed his friend, but this was not what he had been expecting.  
“Would you give that statement to a lawyer?” Clara suddenly asked, “If what you say is true, then John spent half of his life in prison for a crime he didn't commit at all. It needs to be investigated.”  
“Clara, I don't think anyone cares after 26 years,” John found himself saying.  
“I care,” she replied strictly, “They should at least look into it, whether they find something or not.”  
“Of course I'd give the statement,” Mr Farley replied, “Give me the phone number of your lawyer and I'll talk to him. I'm sorry. I should have done this 26 years ago. I'll do anything I can to make that up to you.”  
“Thank you,” Clara replied kindly, “We'll text you the phone number once we get home. Thank you for telling us.”

John still didn't feel quite real after they had said goodbye and left the house and Clara offered driving back home, which was probably a good idea. He didn't feel up to it at the moment. A part of him couldn't believe a word he had just heard.  
“John,” Clara said when they stopped next to the car, “That is wonderful news. If what he said is true, you're innocent. Why aren't you happy?”  
“I don't know. It feels so surreal.”  
Clara went up to her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Let's go home. I promise it'll all turn out well.”  
John nodded slowly and stepped into the car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your comments :) Even if it seems like the story should be over here, there are still a few things that need to be resolved.


	33. Chapter 33

Clara was just about to settle down for a quiet afternoon with a cup of hot chocolate and a good book when she was rudely interrupted by the doorbell. Thinking that it must be Amy who had mentioned she might stop by later, Clara went to open the door and to her surprise she found John waiting in front of it, almost jumping up and down in excitement and grinning broadly.  
“Hey, are you alone?” he asked.  
“Yeah, Alex is in Seattle for the rest of the week- _uh!_ ”  
She almost cried out in surprise when John suddenly lifted her off her feet and twirled her around in a hug. He pressed a kiss to her lips before he finally set her down, still grinning like a mad idiot.  
“John, what the hell is going on?” Clara asked, now smiling too because whatever it was, it must be good news.  
He drew a letter out of his pocket and handed it to her, his hands still shaking nervously.  
“What is that?” she asked as she unfolded it.  
“A letter from my lawyer,” John said excitedly, “He says they're reopening the case. There have indeed been reports of a violent gang in Glasgow at that time. They caught them all and they did their time for several break-ins and other crimes, but they were never questioned about the night my friend was killed. My lawyer says that the crime was insufficiently investigated and that there is a good chance for me to be completely exonerated!”  
“Oh my God, John,” Clara gasped as she threw her arms back around him, “That is amazing!”  
“It's a long process, but my lawyer thinks it's worth it,” John said and kissed her again, more fiercely this time, “I owe it all to you, Clara. Without you none of this would have happened.”  
He was still holding her in his arms, but when he looked at her now, his eyes so full of love and gratitude, he didn't need to say any more. His lips were back on hers in a matter of seconds and Clara soon found her back pressed against the wall. His hands were on her waist, slowly pushing her shirt up as he kissed her, tickling her sensitive skin on their way.  
She laughed. “What happened to being less obvious?” Clara mumbled against his lips.  
John paused for a moment. “You said you were alone. And I can't wait,” he whispered as he pulled the shirt over her head and pressed his hips against hers again before he lowered his mouth to her neck. Clara let out a tiny moan, her hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. He let go off her just long enough for her to push the shirt out of the way. She had missed the feeling of him close to her so much. Four weeks had definitely been too long. She palmed him through the fabric of his jeans and to her surprise she found him already hardened.  
“Excited?” Clara giggled.  
John only growled in reply as his hand found its way under her skirt, teasing her through the fabric of her knickers. She pushed her hips up against his hand in need of more while he kissed his way down from her neck to the edge of her bra. Clara reached for his face and pulled him back up to her lips, her need of him almost growing to be too much to bear.  
“Enough teasing,” she concluded when his mouth left hers. Clara bent forward, reached under her skirt to pull down her knickers before her hands landed on his belt, hastily undoing it, the button and zip below. John helped her push down the annoying fabric until his trousers and pants collected around his ankles.  
Lifting her up Clara felt her back pressed against the wall again and she wrapped her legs and arms around him for more support. She smiled at him as he observed her through his hooded gaze and grabbed his shaft with his free hand. Clara let out a throaty moan as he entered her, filling her up like they were made for each other.  
“I love you,” she breathed.  
“I love you, too,” he replied before he kissed her again and started moving inside of her.  
Clara clawed onto his back, digging her nails into his skin as he was establishing his rhythm.  
“Imagine,” she panted, “Soon we can do this every day.”  
“And on the sofa, the table,” John released a moan, “The bed.”  
“Oh yes,” Clara keened as a thrust hit particularly deep and his hand pinched the cheek of her ass. He drove inside her, slowly picking up pace and Clara could feel the pressure already building up inside of her as he continued to hit her sweet spot. They kissed each other sloppily, often missing the lips entirely in their frenzy and always breaking apart to catch their quickening breath.  
Clara tightened her grip around him, trying to guide his movements with her legs, trying to make him go faster as she approached her climax. She moaned into his mouth as she came, but he continued to thrust inside her, dragging and riding her orgasm out until she thought she couldn't take any more when he finally spilled himself inside of her, groaning and muttering “I love you” over and over again. 

Carefully John set her back down onto the floor and Clara's knees felt wobbly, but he still held her, cupping her face and kissing her lips again.  
“Will you move in with me once Alex has gone to Seattle?” John asked, gathering his clothes off the floor, “I know he said you can have the house for a couple more months, but if you like you can move in right away.”  
“I would love to,” Clara confessed with a smile.  
“Clara, I made a decision,” John suddenly announced, obviously trying to sound matter-of-factly as he was buttoning his shirt back up, “I'm going to tell Alex.”  
Clara shot around. “About _this_?” she asked, horrified.  
John glared at her. “Of course not about this. I'm going to tell him that I'm his father before he leaves. He has a right to know.”  
“No, you can't! You-”  
The sound of the doorbell interrupted her once more and Clara sighed.  
“We'll talk about this later,” Clara said and went to open the door, again not finding the person she had expected to see – quite the contrary.  
“Dad!” Clara blurted out and few seconds later she could heard John in the background, knocking something over. Oh God, she hadn't told her father about any of the latest events, not even that she and Alex had separated over 3 weeks ago.  
“Hello darling,” her father bent down and kissed her cheek, “Have I interrupted your workout?”  
“No, uhm,” she scanned her brain for a good excuse as to why she was blushed and sweaty, “Moving furniture. What are you doing in London?”  
“I have a business thing here tomorrow and I thought I'd surprise my daughter before I head off to the hotel. My timing is bad, isn't it?”  
“Just a teensy bit,” Clara bit her lip, but waved her hand to tell him to come inside.

John was standing in the living room and she thanked all the Gods worshipped across the planet that he was fully dressed again, even though his hair was utterly tousled and he looked thoroughly nervous. Clara hadn't even thought about how she was going to introduce John to her father. Luckily John took the initiative and extended his hand.  
“Hello, I'm John Smith, a neighbour,” he said nervously.  
Her father shook John's hand. “I'm Dave Oswald, Clara's father,” then he turned around to Clara, “You could have told me you have guests.”  
“Not guests, just John,” she cleared her throat awkwardly.  
“I should probably leave,” John said, but Clara got hold of his arm as he was about to turn towards the door.  
“No,” she said, taking a deep breath, “Stay for a moment. We should get this over with.”  
“Are you sure?” John asked in a hushed voice.  
“Yes,” she replied determinedly, “Dad, I have something I need to tell you and you might wanna sit down for that.”

Dave Oswald eyed his daughter suspiciously, but did as she asked and took a seat on the sofa. Clara inhaled sharply, trying to find the right point to start.  
“Dad, I know I probably should have called you and told you this earlier, but. . .” she paused, “Alex has taken a new job. In Seattle.”  
“Are you moving to America?” her father asked immediately.  
“No, not me, just Alex. We separated when he made the decision.”  
“Oh honey, you should have called and told me. I would have come down with Granny.”  
“It's okay,” Clara reassured him, “And that's not the whole story yet.”  
She noticed John shift his weight from one foot to the other next to her. Clara took another deep breath.  
“Are you pregnant? Do you need our help?” her father continued to ask.  
“No, I'm not pregnant,” she refrained from adding the word 'yet', “I have found someone else. Dad, meet my new boyfriend – John.”  
Her father's eyebrows shot up and for a moment he didn't say anything.  
“Alex doesn't know,” Clara explained immediately, “And we don't want him to find out. John and I fell in love before Seattle even came up in the first place and we want to spare him the pain. I promise, once John and I have settled in together we will invite you and Granny. And Linda. And you can all get to know each other, but right now it's still a bit complicated.”  
Still her father remained silent, just exchanging looks between her and John.  
“I should probably leave now,” John suggested again and this time Clara nodded in agreement.  
“It was nice meeting you, Mr Oswald,” he said before he pressed a chaste kiss to Clara's forehead and left her and her father alone to talk.

“Dad, please say something,” Clara begged, the insecurity showing in her voice, “I know it's not a nice thing to do to Alex, but if it hadn't been for Seattle he would've just gotten hurt even more.”  
“That man is my own age,” Dave blurted out.  
“I don't care about that,” Clara said honestly, “I love him. John makes me happy. Ever since I met him I have come to realize just how wrong my relationship with Alex has always been. With John it just feels absolutely right.”  
“For now. But what about 20 years from now when he's pushing 80 and you're not even in your 50s. Do you want to be babysitting an old man when you've only just lived half your life?”  
“We don't know what will be 20 years from now. For all you know I could get hit by a car tomorrow and it's John who's going to have to push a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I don't care, Dad. For the first time in my life I can actually see myself getting married and having children and I want that with John. If you don't approve, that's fine, you don't have to, but if you can't at least respect my decision then consider the earlier invitation cancelled.”  
Her father nodded. “Fine. I respect your decision,” he paused, “You know, I never really liked Alex and in a way I am relieved you're not going to America with him.”  
Clara started to laugh. “Since when do you not like Alex? You never said a thing.”  
“The only boyfriend I could ever like would be a eunuch with no hands,” Dave joked.  
“Don't be silly, Dad, you'd complain he can't help me with the household.”  
“True,” he agreed, “But if this John makes you happy I'm going to have to give him a chance.”  
“Thank you,” Clara smiled sincerely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for the amazing comments :) I know you all want this story to never end but it's going to and it's going to be soon (in chapter 35, to be precise). I'm not sure I'll be able to update tomorrow because of work and family stuff (I am still hoping for a Zygon to take my place in that for a day) but if not you will get the last two chapters on Sunday.


	34. Chapter 34

Clara was waiting by the window. Alex had gone out to run some last errands before he would fly off to Seattle the next day and she had a feeling that John would want to talk to him today and that was something she wanted to prevent at any cost.  
And she had been right. John's front door opened and he emerged from the house, a determined look on his face as he made his way across the street towards her and Clara ran for the door and opened it before he even had a chance to ring the bell.  
“I forbid it!”  
John spotted her and stopped a couple of steps in front of Clara, sighing.  
“He isn't even home right now. I don't know when he will return,” she added coldly, “But I still forbid it.”  
She watched John's shoulders sink. “He has a right to know.”  
“John,” Clara took a deep breath, “We've talked about this. I know you want to get it off your conscience, but it won't change anything, it won't make anything better. Alex had a father and if you tell him, it will only destroy the picture that he had of the man who raised him. Please, just leave it.”  
“I can't,” he said desperately, “He deserves to know the truth.”  
“You're being an idiot, do you know that?”

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of an engine and Clara already feared that it would be Alex returning home before she had convinced John not to tell him, but instead, when they both turned around, they spotted a taxi parking right in front of their driveway.  
When Clara had thought the return of Alex would have been bad, she hadn't expected the woman that stepped out of the taxi. 

“Johnny?”  
Sarah Jane gawked at John for a long time before she slowly started to step closer, her eyes never even for a second leaving him. If Clara hadn't been so absolutely sure of John's feelings for her, she might have felt jealous.  
“Oh my God, it _is_ you!”  
“Sarah Jane,” John smiled kindly at her before she suddenly threw her arms around him in a hug.  
Clara felt a little awkward watching their reunion.  
“What are you doing here?” Sarah Jane asked after she had released him. but then it seemed to dawn on her and her smile faded, “Oh no, John, you _didn't_! Did you tell Alex what I told you all those years ago?! Is he the reason you moved here?!”  
Sarah Jane threw a glance at Clara, suddenly uncertain whether she should say any more.  
“She knows everything,” John told her, “You can speak in front of Clara. And no, I haven't told him yet.”  
“And you won't,” Clara said determinedly and then turned her attention to Sarah Jane, “Tell him he can't tell Alex the truth!”

Sarah Jane glanced from Clara to John and back.  
“Maybe we should all go inside? Talk in private? Alex just sent me a text, he won't be here for the next half hour and we should really discuss this.”  
Both Clara and John agreed and she led the two of them into the living room where they all sat down around the coffee table.  
“I'd rather discuss it in private,” Sarah Jane said, eyeing Clara as if she wasn't entirely sure how it came to be that she knew or why she was so close to John all of a sudden.  
“No,” John replied, “Whatever you say you can say in front of Clara. I've told her everything about me.”  
Sarah Jane inhaled sharply. “Alright, if that is what you want,” she turned her attention to John, “You can't tell Alex that you're his father.”  
“Wow, I've never heard that before.”  
“No, you don't understand,” she said, “You can't tell him because I don't know if you _really are_ his father.”  
John's eyes widened. “ _What?_ But you told me! You said that I was his father, but that you wanted to raise him with Kenneth!”  
“I don't know,” Sarah Jane shrugged, “The timing would have made sense. I believed it then, I truly did. But there was a time, somewhere around when Alex was 7 or 8, when he really looked like Kenneth. I can show you pictures. I never had a test done because I never saw a reason for it. You were in prison already, Kenneth was a good dad. I thought: what's the point? I _really_ don't know which one of you is Alex' biological father.”

John remained silent for a long moment and Clara could scarcely imagine what was going on inside his mind. She fought the urge to sit down next to him and hold his hand, to comfort him, to tell him that he was going to be a father sooner or later and that it would be so much better than this. But she couldn't. Not in front of Sarah Jane.  
“John,” she said kindly, “Leave it, please. Remember what I told you.”  
“Kenneth raised him,” Sarah Jane said, “As far as I'm concerned, and I am sure Alex would back me up on this, _he_ is his father. Not you.”  
John sighed and raised his head to look straight at Clara. “Okay.”  
Sarah Jane seemed just as relieved as Clara felt. “And now that that's settled, tell me everything. I haven't seen you in so long, I want to know _everything_ that has happened.”

When John began telling her about prison and about what he had discovered afterwards, carefully leaving out Clara's name, she slipped out of the conversation and left them to catch up on their own. Half an hour later Alex returned home and he seemed very confused.  
“Why is my mother talking to our neighbour?” he asked with his eyebrows raised.  
“Oh, they know each other. From Glasgow. Small world, isn't it?” Clara laughed nervously.  
“Very small,” he said, the suspicion all too audible in his voice.  
Alex peeked through the crack in the door, watching them joke and laugh about the old times and a short while later he turned his attention back to Clara.  
“When will you be moving in with him?” Alex asked all of a sudden. There was no anger in his voice, no jealousy. It was a simple question and the tone caught her off guard as much as the statement itself.  
“What? What makes you think-”  
“I'm not stupid,” he replied with a slight shrug, “I know the two of you are only waiting for me to leave. It's okay, I think. I'll find a way to handle it. We've been separated for a month now, I've known you have feelings for him. I'm not asking because I'm jealous or angry or resentful. I'm asking out of practical reasons.”  
“Uhm,” Clara spluttered, surprised by his statement and the fact that he knew and had never mentioned it before, “We wanted to move my things next weekend.”  
“Good,” he said matter-of-factly, “I just wanted to know when I can put this house on the market and I wanted to ask if you'd be willing to handle that. You know, showing people around and all of that. It would be a bit complicated from Seattle.”  
“Of course,” Clara agreed, “I'll do that. Don't worry about it.”  
Alex took a deep breath. “I mean what I said, Clara. I'll find a way to handle it, but I think it's very considerate of you not to show it so openly as long as I'm still here.”  
“I thought that was the least we could do.”  
“I wish you the best of luck,” he said sincerely, “As much as I would have loved for us to stay together, I want you to be happy.”  
Clara swallowed, her throat suddenly feeling very dry. “I hope you will be happy, too.”


	35. Epilogue

**5 Years Later**

Clara was sitting in the backyard watching over the girls who were playing with their dolls while drinking her afternoon tea, reading the Thank You card Alex had written her for their wedding present and marvelling over how big Maebh had grown already. It was as if the last few years had passed in a heartbeat.  
“You can come inside now!” she heard John's voice call from inside the house.  
Clara smiled and slowly struggled out of her comfortable chair, her back already aching again. She couldn't wait for the next two months to be over.  
“Melody,” Clara called for older girl, “Will you watch Maebh for a few minutes while I'm inside?”  
“Sure Aunty Clara!”  
She smiled to herself once more. Despite being two years apart the two girls were the best of friends, practically inseparable, and were either at their house or over at Amy and Rory's place. John adored his daughter, but he was always glad to have a moment alone with Clara, especially since he was now a stay-at-home father. Even though they could both afford to stay at home at least for the first couple of years thanks to the generous compensation John had received for being wrongfully convicted of the murder of his friend, Clara had gone back to teaching six months after giving birth to Maebh and she had never regretted it. She simply needed both her job and her family.

John waited for her by the door with a scarf and carefully blindfolded her before he slowly led her through the house.  
“What is that smell?” she asked after a moment, “Is it chocolate? Did you know I've been craving chocolate and turned the bathtub into a chocolate bath?”  
“Close,” John said, chuckling.  
His hands left her, leaving Clara standing in what she guessed was the kitchen.  
“Open your mouth,” John told her.  
Clara frowned under her scarf. “Is this going to be something dirty? Cause the kids are still outside.”  
“Not this time,” he said, “Now open your mouth.”  
She did as she was told and a few moments later the smell of chocolate grew even stronger and she felt a spoon being guided into her mouth. She closed it and tasted.  
“Oh my God, that is-” she didn't finish her sentence, but ripped the blindfold from her face.  
“Your mum's chocolate soufflé,” John said with a smile, “Happy anniversary!”  
Clara went on her toes and pulled John's face down for a long kiss. When their lips parted again John pulled up a chair for Clara to sit down and placed another kiss on her stomach.  
“Is he behaving today?” John asked.  
“I think he's saving the kicking for tonight,” she replied with a sigh.  
“Oh no,” John said, waving a finger at his unborn son, “No kicking tonight. Mummy and I have very special plans.”  
“Please don't say it,” Clara begged him. She recalled that during her first pregnancy she had had to tell him several times not to refer to sex as _bouncing baby_.  
“I didn't say anything,” John said defensively.  
Clara finally took a large spoonful of the soufflé and was about to shove it into her mouth when John stopped her.  
“You might wanna eat that with caution,” he warned her.  
“Why?” Clara raised an eyebrow at him.  
“Maebh helped with the dough earlier and I'm not entirely sure there isn't a part of a toy in there somewhere.”  
She looked at him for a moment, a boyish smile on his lips, a bit of flour still on his shirt and in his messy hair and all she could think about was how lucky she was to have met him. Clara was still as happy as she had been on the day she had moved in with him, or the day she and John had eloped, only inviting Amy and Rory to witness the exchange of their improvised vows or the day John had cried out of joy because Clara had told him she was pregnant or when he had held his daughter for the first time, refusing to let her go even though she wanted to be fed.  
“I love you,” she said sincerely.  
“I love you, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very, very, very much for reading this story and for writing all your sweet comments! I really enjoyed writing this and I loved the feedback you all gave me!
> 
> The good news is: I am already working on the next story, which will be called "The Doctor's Secret" and it will be up in a few days. I'm not yet sure whether it's going to be a one shot or if it'll have 3-5 chapters but be sure to look out for it.  
> I am also planning on writing a lonfic Diner AU but I want to wait with that until the last episode of DW has aired. 
> 
> Hope to see you all again very soon in my next stories :D


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